Dreaming of Fairies
by Grounders10
Summary: When Taylor found a chest of books belonging to her mother in the attic, she never expected how life was going to change. Now four inches tall and trailing glitter wherever she goes, life in Brockton Bay is about to change, quite a bit.
1. Prologue

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A Worm Fanfic

Dreaming of Fairies

By: Grounders10

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Prologue

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The spine of the book was brown leather, cracked and rough from time and a lack of proper care. The silhouette of a fairy was embossed in gold at both the top and bottom of the spine. The leather creaked loudly as it was laid down on the kitchen table.

Taylor Hebert brushed a lock of her black hair behind an ear as she ran a hand over the blank front cover of the book. She had found it in a chest in the attic among her mother's things. This was the third book she had brought down to read through. The first pair had been rather dry texts on mythological creatures and plants. She hoped that this one was just a touch less dry.

The teenage girl sat down at the kitchen table and carefully opened the front cover of the book. The first page was empty. She carefully flipped to the next. "There we go," She muttered as the title page was uncovered. "_A Treatise on the Arcane and Obscure Truths of the Faerie, By Nathaniel Portman. Circa. 1865_. Huh…" Beneath the title in gold leaf that was cracked and faded was another silhouette of a fairy. She traced it with one finger, taking care to not touch the paper.

She flipped the page after spending a few minutes examining the title page. There was no table of contents before she reached the first chapter: '_Myths, Rumours, and Folk Tales_'. The chapter name was printed in cracked gold leaf. Leaning forward she started reading.

The book was, it turned out, filled to the brim with information. It was also just as dry and exacting as the other two books had been. It wasn't quite a textbook, but Taylor was certain one of its descendants probably was. Still, for a girl bored on New Year's Eve it was good enough.

She had started reading shortly after lunch and it was getting dark by the time she sat back from the book. Taylor blinked at the dim light that was filtering through the kitchen windows. A glance at the clock hanging by the fridge prompted her to get out of her chair and flick the lights on. With better light, she looked again. It was just after four-thirty.

"Daaaaaad!" She called, "When's dinner?" From the living room there was a loud "Ughle" followed by a surprised shout and a crash. She winced at the cursing that followed. "You okay?" She shouted.

A few moments later her dad stepped out of the living room rubbing his shoulder. "I'm fine Little Owl. Shoulder's a bit sore though," He groaned. He took a seat at the table with a sigh.

"So," Taylor started again, "What's for dinner?"

Her dad heaved a sigh. "Food?" He chuckled at her annoyed look. "How about we order chinese? Almond chicken and a platter of fried rice sounds good to me."

"Sweet and sour pork too," Taylor added, "With some chow mein."

"I'll order it in a few minutes. Ugh," He rolled his shoulder with a wince. "Yeah, it didn't like that. I'll get some pain meds after I make the call. Hmm. Another book?" Taylor blinked at the sudden change in topic and glanced down at the old book.

"Yeah. It's from the same chest as the others," She said, "It's about Fairies."

Her dad stared at the book for a long moment, one hand rubbing his shoulder mechanically. "You know," He said finally, "Your mother was always fond of fairy tales. She'd buy up books on the topic whenever she could."

"I know. She told me a few," Taylor said quietly. The room fell silent. They both loved her mother. Really they did, but ever since her death whenever she came up both of them tended to fall silent.

After a minute or so her dad got up from his chair and walked over to where they kept the take-out menus by the phone. Taylor chewed her lower lip as she watched him order. She scooped up the book and left the room, heading into the living room. She settled down on the recliner with the book in her lap and flicked on the lamp on the table beside it.

Resettled, Taylor returned to reading, occasionally shooting a look towards the kitchen where she could hear her dad moving around. After a few minutes, her dad came into the room with a beer and, shooting her an amused look at the way she had claimed the chair, sat down on the couch. He turned on the TV. The news flowed over the room as they silently did their own things.

An hour later there was a knock on the door as the Chinese food arrived and they were soon seated around the table again, eating quietly. It was an awkward quiet, the sort that Taylor had grown too used to. It was the silence of two people who were unsure as to what they should do or say. It was what their meals were normally like, though it had been gone for most of the Christmas break.

They had almost been a family for a couple of weeks.

It was with guilty relief that Taylor finished her meal and dumped the plate in the sink before scurrying back to her book. It was a dry read, and slow, but very interesting. To her anyway.

Her dad came back to the living room sometime later and turned the TV back on. Hours passed with her reading despite the cheesy Christmas films playing in the background as her dad bounced between channels. He finally switched to the live feed of One Times Square as the new year approached.

Taylor barely paid any attention to the countdown, other than the occasional glance up at the TV. Even when the countdown finished and the ball dropped she merely applauded for a few moments before going back to the book.

She hadn't read everything in the book in detail, though she had read a lot of it. As it was, however, she had reached the end of the book and the notes and credits at the back. She flipped the page a few seconds after the ball drop and after a moment of reading paused.

"Brendan Beltmoor, 4:06am, May 4th, 1944?" She read aloud.

"Sorry?" Her dad asked. She didn't look up.

"I- This is a bit weird," She continued, "October 13th, 1962… 1965, 72… I thought this was a section giving credit to people who helped with the book, but these dates are all long after the book was written…"

"Other readers who signed it?" Her dad suggested.

She shook her head. "No, it's a printed book. It's all printed…" She trailed off as her eyes spotted a very familiar name.

_Taylor Hebert, 12:01am, January 1st, 2011_

Her eyes started at it for a second before looking up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was always two minutes fast, without fail. Always. It read as _12:03_.

Her eyes went back down to the page. "Taylor?" Her dad prompted, half standing.

"It has my name in it… And this date. At this time," She said, pushing the book away from her. "_Taylor Hebert, 12:01am, January 1st, 2011_." She repeated. Her dad's eyes went to the clock like hers had.

Then the line with her name on it started to glow gold.

With a squeak, she tossed the book away. It tumbled across the floor, rolling over and over again until it smacked the far wall and fell right side up. It was on a different page, but as a golden glow spread across the book, prompting a string of curses from her dad, the pages flipped back to the list of names.

Her name, and though she couldn't read it from across the room she knew it had to be her name, glowed as bright as a light bulb on the page. There was a sound like the zipper of reality was being undone as the words began to move and peel themselves off the page. They floated in the air, shining with golden light.

"Taylor, RUN!" Her dad shouted, stepping between her and the book. It was a pointless attempt.

The golden words dissolved into a cloud of golden dust and shot forward, passing around her dad like a swarm of bees around a tree, and before she could make an attempt to get up fell upon her. She coughed as the dust settled over her, meshing into her hair, her clothes, and even down her throat as she accidentally inhaled some of it. It faded into her everything with a tingle.

She opened her eyes after a moment to find her dad staring at her. "Is it over?" She asked, before realizing that the book glowing brighter still. "Dad! Book!" She shouted before gasping as something inside her _popped_ like a fizzy drink. A cloud of golden dust exploded out from her and the world suddenly got a lot bigger.

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Taylor blinked as the obscuring cloud of golden dust faded, mostly at least. There was a fine layer of golden dust over everything except her. She had fallen forward onto something soft. "Nmmghlr..," She groaned as she pushed herself up. She felt stiff like she'd slept odd but otherwise fine. There was something odd with the ground. It was springy like an exercise mat. As she tried to sit up properly she noticed several things at once.

She wasn't wearing the black sweater and jogging pants she had been before. Instead, she was wearing a very tasteful green skirt, reddish-brown boots, and a white halter top that left her back exposed.

Her hair, which was now hanging into view, and which she could tell had to be hers by tugging on it, was a shocking crimson red that put her old former friend Emma's to shame with its vibrancy. She stared at the lock of hair uncomprehendingly before a twitch from her back caused her to slowly look behind her.

Wings. Wings like an insect. Long enough that they hung to below her knees while folded. They were a vibrant red with highlights of green and thin tracery of silver in geometric patterns mixed through the other two colours. She reached out hesitantly and touched them. She flinched at the sharp, though not unpleasant, sensation.

"I- I- What happened?" She asked. Panic was starting to build. She had been reading, then the ball dropped, then… Where was she?

"TAYLOR!" Boomed the voice of god from high above. She flinched and looked up. And she looked up, and up, and up. A giant stood before her, his frame towering like a literal mountain over an ant.

Her wings twitched and buzzed before falling still as she stared, practically frozen with fear, up at the- was that her dad? She blinked, fear subsiding ever so slightly as the rest of the world came into focus through her disoriented mind. She was still sitting on the recliner.

She looked about, taking in the room. Everything seemed so large. The armrests towered over her and the small imperfections in the leather, which was already quite worn, might as well have been potholes on a highway.

"TAYLOR!" She flinched as the giant moved far too fast for something so large and knelt down to her level. A face the size of a house looked down at her head-on.

"Dad? DAD!?" She shouted as loud as she could. She waved both hands at him. He blinked, an expression of relief forming as she called up to him.

"HOW ARE YOU DOING?" He asked, speaking normally. Idly Taylor's brain spat out the question of whether this was what it was like talking to god? There seemed to be a lot of shouting involved.

"OKAY? STOP SHOUTING!" She shouted back. He seemed to be struggling to hear her at the moment. Was she that tiny now? She started as a wall appeared from beneath the edge of the chair, before relaxing. It was her dad's hand. He held it out for her and she stumbled to her feet on the spongy ground. Her balance was off. She climbed into his hand. His skin was rough and the hand truly gigantic. As she settled on his palm she shivered. She fit into the palm of her dad's hand now.

She was absolutely tiny.

She squeaked as her dad lifted her up. She grabbed at his hand, causing it to twitch a bit as he carried her away from the chair. The chair fell away beneath her as she nervously settled into her dad's palm. The world swayed with each step. Her dad was watching her, his face taking up a lot of the sky.

The ride was short and over soon as her dad lowered her to the tabletop in the kitchen. As she slid off his hand the table bounced and she tumbled to her knees. "Ow," She groaned, rubbing her knees and looking around. She felt her heart nearly stop as she realized her dad had grabbed the book and was putting it down on the table.

The air shook as he pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning down to her level. "Taylor?" He said softly. She looked up. His eyes were full of tears. "Is that you?" She nodded frantically.

"YES! YES! IT'S ME!" She shouted. He held out a finger to her and she grabbed it as she started crying. They sat there for a while. Taylor couldn't say for sure how long, but eventually the tears ran out and she let go, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked up at her dad.

"What do we do now?" She asked. Her dad made a questioning sound. "WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" She shouted louder. God, she was going to ruin her voice if she had to shout every time she wanted to hold a conversation.

Her dad leaned back, rubbing his face with his hands. Taylor watched him as he took several deep breaths, sniffling as he did. She frowned. "Say something," She muttered.

After a few moments, she sighed and stumbled to her feet. Well, he wasn't being much help. She huffed, wiping away a few sniffles herself. She took a step and swayed a bit. It wasn't too bad, but her balance was definitely off. Of course, it was off. She was a tiny fairy, she even had the wings to prove it. With the change in her hair colour, she had no way to say where the changes might have stopped.

Stumbling a bit she started walking across the table to the book. Her balance improved as she went, going from nearly stumbling to a proper walk by the time she reached the closed tome. She stared at the cracked brown leather binding for a moment. The little flaws and imperfections stood out so easily from so close.

She took a deep breath to steel herself. "So you did this to me. Fix it," She demanded. To her complete lack of surprise, the book stayed completely silent. It was, after all, a book. Why would it talk?

She stared at it with a frown. "Fine," She grumbled, "I'll figure it out myself." She marched the last few steps over to it suddenly found a wall between her and it. She looked up. Her dad had dropped his hand between her and the book with a worried look. She frowned at him and pointed at his hand then the roof.

"It isn't safe," He said.

She scowled. "YOUR POINT!?" She shouted at the top of her lungs.

"No." She huffed and turned back to the hand blocking her way. With a frustrated yell she grabbed the lowest finger and heaved upwards.

His hand went flying.

Taylor stared as her dad's arm flew up and back with enough force to tip him backwards in his chair. He went over backwards in a crash that shook the table and provoked a lot of very loud swearing from him. She winced. "I'm going to be in so much trouble," She mumbled, walking over to the edge of the table. She yelped as one of her dad's hands came up and grabbed the table. The tip of his middle finger clutched the wood what seemed like mere feet in front of her. In reality, it was probably measured in centimetres.

The table rocked as her dad pulled himself up and she fell. "Ow," She mumbled as her dad pulled himself back into view. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to be shocked or annoyed. Shocnoyed maybe? No that was stupid.

"You," He said, with a low level of anger in his voice, "Are so lucky that I'm more worried about you than angry right now young lady."

"SORRY DAD!" She shouted, trying to look as pathetic and sorry as possible. It seemed to work since his expression softened and he sighed.

"I'm worried about you, Taylor," He said, "That book already hurt you once. Let me look."

She shook her head. "NO. NO! IT ALREADY GOT ME! I DON'T WANT IT TO GET YOU!" She shouted, getting to her feet again and waving angrily at him. She could feel her wings spread out behind her as she did so. "DO NOT TOUCH THE BOOK!"

They stared at each other for a long time. Eventually, she huffed and spun on her heels. She marched back towards the book. Her dad got up, but simply found another chair rather than try to stop her.

"Please be careful," He said.

She ignored him irritably. As she grabbed the hefty cover of the book golden light spread from her hands. A wave of golden light that sent little golden sparkles flying into the air spread over the book. Leather, aged and poorly maintained, was restored to pristine condition. New gold filigree spread across the book, replacing the old with a brand new title.

_How to be a Fairy Queen_

_By: Queen Caitrin VI _

As the restoration of the book finished it yanked itself free of her hand and floated into the air. She stumbled back as her dad stood up and reached for something heavy. A glance told her he had found a knife.

The book flipped open, dozens of pages flying by until it stopped back on the page with all the names on it. The page had a border, thin black lines that ran an inch from the edge. At each corner, the lines were intercepted by the silhouettes of four stout figures. All four silhouettes were glowing that same golden light as before and were giving off streams of golden dust that floated in the air.

Then a hand, about as small as hers, reached out of the silhouette and grasped the page. The owner, a short stocky figure wearing what looked like plate armour, heaved itself out of the book and immediately let out an undignified shout as he plummeted ten inches to the ground. One by one the other three silhouettes followed suit, depositing four stout men shorter than Taylor on their kitchen table. The book, its magical glow fading, settled down behind them on the table with a thump.

The first one thumped his gauntlet into the tabletop and pushed himself to his knees. "Argh, gah that was unpleasant. Like drowning in honey. Cadog, Hywel, Emhyr, sound off. Everyone good?" He had a long thick grey beard that was heavily braided. A few brown hairs were visible in it. He had a cape that over his shoulders lined with heavy white fur.

The second of the four rolled onto his back. "We're fine Carwyn. Don't know what you were talking about, that was simply bracing," He chuckled, rolling to his feet easily. He was dressed in a loose robe with a belt of heavy metal chains in different colours around his waist.

"Speak for yourself old man," Grumbled the youngest looking of the four as he stood up. "You didn't fall ten inches." He was wearing fine-looking clothing with a bag thrown over his back. His face had many scars and burn marks.

The last one stood easily. "Like ten inches is an issue Hywel. Emhyr, stop taunting the poor lad," He sighed. He was dressed in a set of heavy chainmail with a hammer at his side and a bag across his back. He stretched and yawned. "Ah, that was a good nap. Now, where and when are we?"

"Either way, look snappy. Look who's waiting for us," Carwyn said. The old-looking soldier straightened up, his back cracking loud enough to be heard by Taylor down the table. The other three seemed to take notice of her and immediately straightened, forming a line behind Carwyn as they faced her. As one they dropped to one knee, their heads bowed.

"We Dwarves who served the last Queen of the Fairies now stand ready to serve the next," They intoned as one. "Commanded us oh great one. We hear and obey."

Taylor blinked and stared at them. "What?" She asked.

Then a knife the size of a skyscraper was embedded into the tabletop next to the dwarves, knocking all five of them off their feet. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER!" Spoke the very angry voice of God.

Taylor sighed and stared at the dwarves as they began arguing with her dad. Somehow he was able to understand them just fine. She waited, neither side seemed to be willing to do anything other than shout. She frowned. She couldn't even make out what the dwarves were saying through the overpowering voice of her dad.

Her world rattling under the voices, she stood and brushed off her skirt. Her wings buzzed irritably as she stepped forward. She took a deep breath then shouted in the loudest possible voice, "**SHUT UP!**"

All shouting stopped immediately as her shout rattled the windows and silenced the five participants in the argument. All of them stumbled and turned to her as she huffed from the effort. That had hurt her throat a bit.

She marched over to the dwarves. "Who are you?" She demanded as her dad sat heavily in a chair. She didn't even spare him a glance as she loomed angrily over the heavily armed warrior. A small part in the back of her brain asked if this was a good idea, but the larger part of it, the currently angry and frustrated part of it, buried it deep.

The warrior stood straight under her glare. "General Carwyn Pewitt. Formerly of the Last Fairy Court of Wales," He declared immediately, "These are-"

"Don't care," She cut him off with a swipe of her hand, "What do you want, and what does it have to do with _THIS._" She snarled the last word as she gestured both towards herself and the book.

His eyes widened. "Ah, yes," He sighed forlornly, "Rather a long tale that, but the short of it is the Fairy Courts were being wiped out. This was a desperate thing. Very desperate."

"If I may?" The robed Dwarf stepped forward. He, like his fellow, didn't quail under her sharp glare.

"You are?" She demanded.

"Loremaster Emhyr Morris Your Grace," He bowed deeply, "This. All of this," He gestured to the book and her, "Is the last desperate plan of the last Fairy Court in Europe. Something was wiping out the courts and those that were left gathered together to, well, save the fairy race. Erm, might I ask what year it is?" He looked entreatingly up at her.

"January 1st, Two thousand and eleven A.D." Her dad said before she could. He was leaning forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his chin resting on his folded hands. He was close enough to hear her.

"Nearly a hundred and fifty years then," The Loremaster observed, "The court of the time decided that fighting off the threat was impossible and sought to instead evade it by ensuring that even in the event of their death there would be a means of continuing the Fairy people. This transformation and our entomement were the result." He paused, noticing her doubtful expression. "Your Grace, I realize our story is more than likely extraordinary and difficult to believe, but it is the truth. We stand here today ready to serve you."

Taylor frowned down at the Dwarf. Fairies? Well, she certainly looked the part. Inches tall with insectile wings. That did fit the general idea of a Fairy to be sure. But Fairies were, like Dwarves, myths. Folk Tales told to explain the unexplainable by farmers and villagers who had no idea what they were dealing with. If they existed before, then why were they considered tall tales?

It was more likely she'd just developed superpowers with a mythical theme. Sentient superpowers who considered her a Queen or something. Still… "Fairies are stories," She said finally.

"Lass, you've just been turned into a Fairy," The chainmail wearing Dwarf, Cadog she recalled, said. She gestured at her. "Pardon my impudence, but yur clearly no myth Milady."

"Then prove it," Taylor snapped, "What is more likely, that I've turned into some mythical creature, or that I've developed superpowers and become some weird Cape." The Dwarves looked at each other for a moment. Despite the frustration that was starting to turn into anger she was able to recognize the looks of confusion on their heavily bearded faces.

"Pardon me again, Your Grace," The Loremaster began, as he turned back to her, "But what is a Cape?"

"A cape," Her dad responded before she could, his voice low, "Is anyone who exhibits powers or abilities not normal for human beings. There have been many with some very strange powers over the years."

"And where do they come from?" Emhyr pressed. The Dwarf was quite curious. "Are all capes human? At least originally?"

"No one knows where powers come from, but to my knowledge, yes. They are all human," Her dad replied, "There isn't much publically available about where powers come from, but there are rumours. I haven't paid too much attention to the facts. There was never much reason to."

The Loremaster nodded, a distinct frown visible beneath his heavy beard. "Curious, but if I may ask, in the absence of fact, what are the rumours?" He asked.

Her dad was silent for a moment as he rested his forehead on his knuckles. She couldn't even see his eyes as he spoke. "There are a lot of rumours, but the ones I hear the most all say the same: You get powers on the worst day of your life. You must live through the single most terrible moment of your life. Then you might get powers."

The worst day of her life. Taylor's growing anger faded a bit, replaced instead by confusion. Today hadn't been the worst day of her life, not by a long shot. That would have been the day her mother died. Today had been average at worst.

"That doesn't make any sense," Taylor said slowly, making an effort to speak loudly, "Today wasn't even bad. It was rather average before now." Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of when she could have gotten powers recently and somehow not noticed. Given how blatant they were she couldn't see how that could have been the case.

She was still thinking about it when the Loremaster stepped forward. "This does make things problematic. I must admit the plan did not account for the possibility of such phenomena," He said.

"Indeed, this is a problem," Carwyn agreed. The elderly warrior ran a hand through his beard thoughtfully. "How can we prove ourselves to be truthful?" He knelt down before her, "I can only ask for a chance to prove our case." The other three Dwarves knelt again with him.

Taylor watched them, her own feelings in turmoil as she considered them. She turned to her dad. "Dad?" She asked plaintively. She didn't know what to do.

Her dad looked up from staring down at the floor. He looked about as lost as she felt. "There's no harm in letting them try, I suppose," He sighed. "It's not like we know where powers come from anyway. Maybe the Fae is as good an answer as anything else."

Taylor nodded hesitantly. It sounded too strange, too unreal even in a world of superheroes and villains. "Okay… Now what?" She looked around at them all, "So I'm… I'm a Fairy and…" She ran her hands through her hair, grasping at the silky strands. "And you're Dwarves. Like the really old myths. Pre-Tolkien… I thought you were supposed to be uglier?"

That produced a few snorts from the Dwarves. "You would be thinking of our more Nordic brethren, Your Grace," The Loremaster said, "I'm afraid tails of their abnormal appearance became uncommonly famous and has been an issue for centuries." He sighed, "As for where to begin. Was this book alone?"

"No, it was in a chest full of… Books. Dad," Taylor spun on her heel to face him, "The books. What if a cape did something to them before they were put into the… chest?" She trailed off as he shook his head.

"That chest was a gift from your mother's mother. They handed it down for over a hundred years and the books came with it when we received it. The only time that chest has been opened in nearly thirty-five years was when we received it a year before you were born. Annette… Annette never did get a chance to go through it properly," Her dad trailed off as they both fell silent.

The Dwarves fell silent themselves, exchanging awkward looks before the youngest of them sighed. "We will need to see the books to proceed," He said, "None of us is exactly ready to navigate a home as large and spacious as this one." He looked pointedly off the side of the table. "And erm... Where are we exactly?"

"The kitchen," Taylor supplied.

Carwyn looked up at the ceiling lights, shielding his eyes with his hand. "That's not the sun. Indoor lighting? And not burning anything either unless I miss my guess. Interesting," He mused. "Magic?"

"Electricity actually," Her dad said, getting up. The table shook a bit as he bumped it on his way up. Taylor took a step back as he loomed over them. "Don't go anywhere," He said after a moment. He turned and walked out of the room into the hall and up the stairs. Taylor watched him go. There was something disconcerting about seeing her dad the size of godzilla.

"Electricity?" The General asked Emhyr.

The Loremaster shook his head. "I've never heard of it."

Taylor slumped to the tabletop. She folded her legs under her and sighed. This was… She looked around at the kitchen that had seemed so average a half-hour before. Now, it was the size of… She couldn't think of anything quite as big as the room seemed to be. Maybe the Empire State building?

Taylor shivered and the finely dressed Dwarf noticed. He walked over and knelt down beside her. "Do you need anything milady?" He asked.

She stared at him incredulously. "Do I need anything?" She repeated, he nodded. She sniffed and looked away. "I don't exactly have anything anymore. Even my bed is too big for me now. I'm a thousand times too small for my clothes. Teacups are bigger than me now." She pointed to the cups by the sink, some of which were now twice as tall as she was.

The Dwarf nodded. "Aye, I can see that milady," He said before smiling confidently from behind his beard. "I am Hywel Rowlands. I was in charge of managing the workmen and non-smith craftsmen. I'll see what we can do once we have more workers."

"More… workers? Like more Dwarves?" She asked.

"Why do you think we asked your father to retrieve those books? Just as we were entomed so were many of our clan," Hywel explained.

Taylor chewed a lip as the other three Dwarves joined them. "It occurs to me, Your Grace," Emhyr said, "That in all of this we have not asked your name."

"I'm Taylor. Taylor Hebert," She said.

"Lady Hebert, it is good to have a name for the face," Said the dwarf in chainmail, "I am Forgemaster Cadog Price. To me answer all the metalworkers of our people. I look forward to creating whatever yur desire is Milady." He bowed deeply and was joined by the General and Loremaster.

"Once we have the people we'll start looking for an appropriate place to build you a place to stay," General Carwyn said.

"Assuming I let you," The words were out of Taylor's mouth before she could consider them. The way the four Dwarves stiffened showed that they hadn't considered that. Or, perhaps, that whoever came up with this plan hadn't considered that the person picked might not want to be a Fairy Queen.

"There is that, yes," Hywel sighed. The Foreman stood up, brushed off his pants and adjusted his collar. "You could easily refuse us."

"Not that it would be in your best interest to do so," Carwyn said. He sat down, crossing his legs beneath him with a grunt.

"Not my best interest?" Taylor asked with a frown. Would they resort to force? That seemed counter-productive when looking for a ruler.

"Not like that, Your Grace," Emhyr sighed as he also sat down on his knees, "I'm sure you've noticed our size, yes?" She nodded. "At a few inches tall there are a great many things; animals, insects, other supernatural beings; who pose a great threat to a Fairy until they learn to control their magic. You are physically as far along as any other Fairy your age would be, but your magic is completely undeveloped. In fact, I would guess that you haven't even tried flying yet."

Her wings twitched at that. "I've only been a… Fairy," She conceded the term, "For… Where's the clock…" She glanced around for the clock on the wall. "Half an hour." That brought a few muttered exclamations from the four Dwarves.

"Then you are especially vulnerable," The Loremaster said, leaning forward, "While you have enough magic to fly, it is going to take days for you to acclimate to your new body enough to even make an attempt. Until you do you are vulnerable to nearly anything. A young Fairy's primary defence is to fly away."

"And you know this, how?" She asked, trying to move her wings consciously. All she managed was a light buzz as they vibrated.

"This is not the first time that a human has become a Fairy, Your Grace," Emhyr said, "While this was a most desperate action, it is not an unprecedented one. Humans have become fairies before, though it was normally done as a mutually beneficial arrangement on both ends."

Taylor gave up on trying to move her wings and they settled down. "You've made your point," She muttered, shivering at the thought of waking up with a spider looming over her.

"It is not our intention to frighten you," Carwyn said. The old warrior looked worried as he leaned forward. "Our duty is to protect you. You are the last hope with which we have been entrusted. Your safety is our greatest priority."

Taylor nodded slowly. So maybe she did need help like this. There was still a question that was bugging her, however. "Why me?" She asked, "There was a list of names on that page. A lot before me, and a few after. I can't imagine you've been giving this speech again and again."

"We would actually have a plan if that was the case," Carwyn sighed.

"The list," Emhyr began, "Was a list of possibilities. Each one contained the enchantment that transformed you, except for the person whose name was on the list. Powerful Fairies can look into the future and divine possibilities. Each name was a person who could have read the book at that time. Had they done so we would have spoken with them rather than you and that would have been it."

"But was it just people who read the book? That's… That's a terrible way to decide a ruler," Taylor protested.

The Loremaster chuckled. "Were that the only requirement then we would have long been serving another. I was told that the spells had been placed not for anyone, but for those they viewed as being the best possible candidates for continuing the Fairy race. And that the moments when they could be activated were the moments that would lead to them becoming the best ruler they could be."

"The best ruler? Me?" Taylor stared at the Dwarf.

"Aye, Your Grace," He nodded, "I can't say that out of all possible rulers you are the best out of them. That is beyond my abilities. All I can say, is that out of the thousands of people who will have held that book and looked at that page, you are amongst a select few who have the potential to return the Fairy race to this world successfully. There were thousands, but in the end, there is only one page of names."

Taylor rocked backwards as she stared at him. She had wanted to know why, but she hadn't considered that it was because she _could_ be an amazing Queen. "I…" She looked around at the four Dwarves. "I don't even know what to say."

"We serve at your discretion," Carwyn said, placing one knuckle on the tabletop and bowing to her. The other three echoed the bow.

"Command us, Queen Taylor," They pronounced as one.

Taylor stared at them for a long moment. She could see them growing tenser the longer she waited to make a decision. "Okay. I will," She finally said. Even if it was only temporary, she'd accept that responsibility. If nothing else, at least it came with guards.

The four Dwarves untensed. "Your orders, Your Grace?" Carwyn asked.

After a bit of thought, she said, "I have no idea." Did they really expect her to snap her fingers and have a brilliant plan immediately?

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that we do then," Hywel said. The other Dwarves nodded their agreement.

"Well, at least someone does," She sighed. There was a thud up the stairs and she looked up. "And I think that's dad." Down the very far off steps came her dad carrying the dark wooden chest. He was grunting with the effort of moving it.

The chest was carried into the kitchen and set down by the far end of the table. Her dad stood up slowly, his back cracking a couple of times as he did so. He looked calmer than he had when he left the table. "Before I open this thing up, we need to talk," He said. He pulled up the chair at that end of the table and sat down. He tapped the table with one finger, an action that sent tremours through the tabletop. "Taylor, come here, please. You lot, other end of the table."

The four Dwarves bowed then quickly retreated towards the other end of the table as Taylor stood up and jogged the length of the table to her dad who was digging something out of a pocket. She blinked at the house-sized tape measure that was set on the table. "Dad?" She called as she got close, trying to pitch her voice to carry without shouting. It seemed to work since he looked to her as he drew out the tape measure along the table. She came to a stop beside it.

She looked at the yellow metal ribbon with a frown. It was about as wide as she was. Yet another strange thing. "So," She looked up at her dad as he spoke, "Lie down, I want to find out how tall you are now."

"You mean how short I am?" She groused, but obeyed, lying down. She eyed the large ribbon of metal worriedly as her dad carefully took her measurements. All it would take was one incautious movement and she was probably going to lose her head.

After a few moments of careful adjustment, her dad lifted the tape measure and let it snap back into its case. She flinched at the light breeze and the sound of its passing. "Four inches even," He sighed, lowering his head to the tabletop. He kept his voice low. "This… This is a mess Little Owl."

"Yeah, it is," She agreed, sitting up. So she was only a measly four inches now? There were Barbie dolls taller than her now. "What do we do now?" She asked.

"That… I'm not sure," Her dad said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had taken off his glasses. With a start, Taylor put a hand to her own face. She wasn't wearing glasses and she could see just fine. She stared wonderingly at her own hand for a moment before shaking her head and turning back into what her dad was saying. "... on what they want," He was saying.

"On the Dwarves? Sorry, got distracted for a sec," She apologized at his raised eyebrow.

"Yes, the Dwarves. I assumed you talked about while I was gone?" He asked quietly. She nodded. "And? What do they want the books for?"

"There are more dwarves in the books. Stored like they were."

"How many?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," She admitted, "I didn't ask."

"Did they say what they want from you?"

"They want me to be their Queen. They said my safety was their responsibility," She said.

Her dad raised an eyebrow. "Responsibility, did they use that word specifically?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No… They used priority. My safety was their priority. Why?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Wording is important. In legal terms, there is a large difference between responsibility and priority. Responsibilities can be ignored under the right circumstances… What do they want to do with the extra dwarves?"

"Build me a house by the sounds of it. And guard me. Apparently, until I learn to fly I'm really vulnerable as a Fairy. As in insects can hurt me," She shuddered. Getting eaten by a fly or a spider was not on her list of wishes.

"I can't be here every second of the day either," He sighed. "There is another issue I realized while rummaging through the attic."

"What?" She asked, trying to figure out what else could have been going wrong.

"You know how neither your mother or I have been… fond shall we say, of the PRT," He started. She nodded slowly. There had been more than one annoyed or angry rant over the years about the inability of the Parahuman Response Team to reign in the supervillains and their gangs. They usually happened after the gangs did something, the what was usually immaterial, near the Dockworker's Union yard.

He sighed. "I think we need to contact them," He said.

"What? Why?" Taylor demanded.

"You're four inches tall Little Owl," He reminded her, "You can't go to school like this. God, if something happened I have no idea what I would do." He sniffed loudly. It sounded like an elephant trumpeting. "If I keep you here I can buy… two, maybe three weeks before someone starts asking questions."

"Like Winslow would care. The teachers barely do anything," Taylor crossed her arms with a huff.

"I know the school is less than it should be," He admitted, "But we can't make a plan that relies on them being incompetent."

"Yes, we can," Taylor replied.

"It isn't a good plan. We'll get found out at some point. Winslow does still attempt to deal with truancy if you aren't in a gang," He reminded her.

"Lucky me. I'm probably the only person who isn't in one," She deadpanned, earning a sigh from her dad.

"We'll need the PRT's help to get you out of school legally. Also-"

"I don't want to be a Ward," Taylor cut in.

"Honey, I wasn't planning on asking you to be. I want you safe, not running around being a child soldier," He said softly, holding out a finger to her. She leaned against it and sighed.

"Safety isn't… really possible like this, I don't think," She mused. She was four inches tall.

"As safe as possible then," He corrected, "We still need to talk to them. If for nothing else, then getting you out of school. Maybe see if they're willing to help find a tutor instead, or at least help you get homeschooled."

"I guess…" Taylor shrugged. She didn't have the same distaste for the PRT her dad did, but the Wards were a group of teenagers with superpowers. Regular teenagers had enough drama to drown in, what the hell did traumatized teenagers with superpowers have? No, getting involved in that mess was not something she wanted. At all.

"At least something good came from this," She mused, getting a raised eyebrow from her dad. His eyebrows looked so large and weird from her new perspective. Like shaggy dogs wagging their tails.

"Oh?"

"I don't have to go to Winslow anymore." He chuckled.

"No, no you don't," He agreed.

"Can you hold off on contacting them until I figure out how to fly? Just in case?" She asked. He hesitated, then nodded.

"I can do that… Every instinct is telling me not to, but I can do that," He agreed. He gently guided her upright with his finger. "I need you to stand." She grumbled but stopped leaning on him.

He waved to the dwarves. "Come over here," He said with a more normal tone of voice that only sounded a bit like thunder. Taylor turned and spotted the dwarves jogging down the length of the table. It didn't take too long before they joined them.

"Your Grace," Carwyn greeted her as they came to a stop. He bowed to Taylor then turned to her father. "Aye, you called Mr. Hebert."

"How much did you hear?" He asked.

The General scratched his chin. "The table is unfortunately small by human standards," He said.

"So everything?"

"Yes," He confirmed.

Her dad sighed. "You said you were a General, I believe?" Her dad asked.

"I defended the Court of Wales for the last century as its highest General," Carwyn confirmed.

"Hmm…" He drummed the table with his fingers, sending small shockwaves through the tabletop. Taylor sat down before they knocked her off her feet. Her balance was still terrible. "You have more people in the books," Her dad stated.

"We do," The General acknowledged.

"How many?"

"I'm afraid I do not know," The greyed dwarf, "Not for certain at any rate. We were placed in the first book created so as to ensure our presence. That book," He gestured to the heavy tome resting further down the table, "Was the linchpin of the entire plan. Assuming the worst case they wanted to make sure that the four most capable of advising the new Queen would be there. Everyone after is considered merely a bonus."

"But you have to have some idea?" Danny pressed with a frown.

"Some," Carwyn admitted, "Loremaster?"

The other dwarf ran a hand through his beard. "Given the news just before our entomement, I would have to say there are at least several hundred others in the books. At most… Well, hard to say. The last census before the collapse placed the clans in service to the Court of Wales at nearly fifty-five million."

"Fifty-five million?" Taylor stared.

"There's no chance of them all being in those books, Your Grace," Emhyr assured her, "At most, the plan called for only our clan of Dwarves, a colony of Brownies, and a number of other important figures. No Fairies were included since there was concern that their presence might have rendered the books obvious to those hunting. Our last census put us at just over one point three million members."

"That's still no small number," Danny noted.

"Quite true. However, we do not intend on letting all of them out at once," Hywel said. The finely dressed Dwarf stepped forward, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. "It is a matter of logistics. While we take much less food than a human we still require places to stay and, frankly, even a mere ten thousand of us would take up an unacceptable portion of this house."

Taylor winced. That would be rather inconvenient.

"The plan is for us to do a staged release. One page at a time," Emhyr said, picking up from his younger companion. "Each enchanted book will reveal its true contents at the touch of a Fairy. After that, it is a small matter of some Fairy Dust to release those stored within each page."

"Importantly," Carwyn added before either of them could ask another question, "This means we can cherry-pick who we want."

"Craftsmen, soldiers, seamstresses perhaps?" Hywel suggested. Taylor looked down at her clothes. She only had the one set.

"The last can wait a bit I think," Cadog said with a shake of his head. "No point bringing them out unless they have tools and materials to work with."

"And we may be able to get something made more quickly anyway," her dad said with a thoughtful look. He sighed. "So, One point three million?"

"At most, Mr- no, Lord Hebert," Loremaster Emhyr corrected himself to startled looks from both Taylor and Danny, "I have no idea how many they succeeded in entoming before they had to flee with what they had managed. Tell me, my lord, do you know if the books are considered to be a complete set?"

Danny shook his head. "No. No, I have no idea. We received them from Taylor's Grandmother. My wife would have known more, but I don't recall having ever been told in the first place."

"A pity," Emhyr sighed, "I assume then that you don't know how many are in the collection or if any had been removed over the years?"

"No, I don't."

"Then I'm afraid I have no way to know how many of our clan are in there," The Loremaster pronounced.

Danny leaned back from the table in his chair. "Your plans then?" He asked.

Carwyn stepped forward. "First, scouts and guards. We need to map your house and the surrounding area. Though I suspect it might take us weeks to map just this home of yours." He looked about with a wondering air. "This is far larger than most human dwellings I have entered in the past. Tell me, are you a Noble, Lord Hebert?"

"Not in the least. Not rich either," Her dad said, having apparently heard them despite the distance between them. Taylor frowned. How were they doing that? And how could she learn it?

"Fascinating. Yes, well based on what I have seen so far it will take days to search and identify all of the paths through it we Dwarves might take," Carwyn continued, "From there we will locate the best site to establish a temporary base of operations and a safe space for our young Queen. Then we bring in the craftsmen and set about construction. Progress from then on shall proceed according to our needs and our means."

"I'd rather you not start punching holes in my walls or playing with the electrical cables," Danny said with a frown.

"The walls would be the best standing structures to build in for the time being," Hywel pointed out, "That said, what is an electrical cable?" Right, nineteenth century. Modern technology was entirely foreign to them.

Taylor pointed to the lightbulbs in the ceiling. "You see those?" She asked, getting nods, "Those are electric lights. They run on electricity and they get it from wires that we run through the walls."

"Most are made of copper," Her dad continued, "And touching an electrified surface has the potential to kill you. If enough power goes through you you can even catch fire." He grimaced, "That's one of the methods we use to kill unwanted insects actually."

As one the Dwarves winced. "Ah. I see then," Cadog grimaced.

"Electricity is basically lightning controlled and directed," Her dad added, "Too much and you die. A little, and you're going to be feeling it for a while. And none of you are exactly large enough to not combust instantly."

"Point made," Hywel muttered. "I suppose my craftsmen shall have to be educated thoroughly then. Are there books that might be made available on this subject?"

"Can you even use human-sized books?" Taylor asked, very curious.

"Not easily, but yes," Emhyr said, "It usually involves a team of Dwarves. Fairies have an easier time of it once they get a handle of their magic." Well, that was nice to hear. It would have really sucked if she couldn't read anymore because people didn't print books in font .01. The idea of being able to relax while reading and have someone else turn the pages was a nice one. Maybe some palm leaves and a really big grape as well? Hmmm…

"Have we reassured you, Lord Hebert?" Carwyn asked, standing tall.

Her dad pinched his brow with two fingers. "Despite my general misgivings… yes. You have," He sighed, "That said, no construction without running it by me. You will research the building codes before building, and build to them exactly. There will be no experimenting with electricity without supervision by me or someone I appoint. And you will not take Taylor out of the house, or into the walls, without my approval or an urgent emergency. Am I clear?" His tone of voice brooked no dissent, and frankly, Taylor agreed with him.

"Very clear Dad," She said, again attempting to pitch her voice so her dad could hear as she answered for the Dwarves. She added her own attempt at a firm look. It was probably pitiful compared to her dad's, but it seemed to get the point across.

The four bowed. "We accept your terms as our Queen wills, Lord Hebert," The General said formally.

Danny nodded. "Good," He said before pushing back his chair a bit and bending over to unlock the trunk. The lid opened with a loud creak. "Is there a particular book you want?"

The three looked to Loremaster Emhyr who sighed. "Let's see… Give me a moment while I try to remember the disguise name… A guide to… no, no… Ah, yes. Is there a book called _The Mythical Uses Of Silver_?"

There was a lot of rummaging as her dad moved around the books out of sight. "Er… I'm not seeing it… _A Compendium of Mythical Metals and their Metallurgical Methods_?" He asked.

"No. That should be nothing but craftsmen and enchanters. Not what we need," Emhyr shook his head, "Are you sure it isn't there?"

There was more rummaging. "Nothing. It isn't here," Her dad sighed.

"Damn it," Carwyn muttered, angrily running a hand through his beard.

"General?" Taylor asked hesitantly. He looked up.

"Ah, don't worry about it, Your Grace," He said, "Hopefully they'll turn up eventually. Lord Hebert, what about _A History of Legends and War_?" He shouted the last bit to her father.

"Uuuh…" There was rummaging, followed by the sound of fumbling and crashing as a few books hit the floor. Taylor winced. She had to wonder if the occupants felt their books being mishandled. "Not seeing it either."

The curse that left the General set Taylor's ears ringing. As she rubbed her ears she paused, noticing two things. First, her ears were definitely ever so slightly pointed. Second, she had understood every word the General had said despite her being very sure it was in a language she did not recognize. As she pondered that mystery the Loremaster suggested another book.

"_A Basic Guide to Understanding Fairy Society_?" Emhyr suggested.

"That sounds familiar… Yeah, right here," Her dad sat up straight with a weathered red leather book in his hands. Its title was embossed onto the front with brass. "Uhh, do we want to do this here, or somewhere else? The table is a bit high I think."

Hywel leaned over the side, then stepped back quickly. "I would like to add my vote of support to that notion. Can we get off the human table please?" He asked the rest. Cadog snorted.

"It isn't that high boy," The older Dwarf scoffed, leaning over himself. "It's only a table."

"It will still be rather awkward to get down from," Carwyn said, "And I'm sure Lord Hebert has other things he'd rather be doing than standing around lifting dwarves up and down in the middle of the night." He nodded towards the dark windows.

"Let me get a plate. We can move to the coffee table in the living room," Her dad said, tucking the book under one arm as he wandered over to the cupboards and fished out a plate with a low side. He placed it down on the table gently. "Climb on," He said. Taylor scrambled over the edge of the cold ceramic.

"Is this porcelain?" Hywel asked as he climbed on as well. He tapped the material with a knuckled.

"No, just a common ceramic. We keep the nice stuff in a cupboard in the hall. Try to avoid breaking it?" He raised an eyebrow at them as he carried them along. The ride was smoother than the last time, but with her greater awareness of her surroundings, it was somehow almost sickening to Taylor as the plate swayed ever so slightly.

Her dad carried them over to the much lower coffee table in the living room and set them down. He set the book down beside them. "Will this do the light show as well?" He asked as they climbed off the plate.

"That was special for the original book," Emhyr said, "It was meant to ensure that we would be present from the beginning since it was assumed that whoever was transformed would try to interact with the book seeking answers."

"Smart," Taylor noted as she swayed, her nausea from the trip threatening to overwhelm her. Hywel noticed and stepped up to steady her.

"Easy Your Grace, easy," He said soothingly as he helped her find a seat on a nearby pen. It was a bit like sitting on a log.

"Are you alright Taylor?" Her dad asked, leaning down to get a better look.

She waved him off. "I'm fine, just a bit car sick? Plate sick? Ugh," She buried her head in her hands. The nausea was slowly fading thankfully.

"Sorry," He winced.

"This isn't unheard of," Emhyr noted, "Some Fairies don't take well to travelling under someone else's power."

"Thank you, that is so helpful," Taylor snarked irritably as she leaned against the youngest Dwarf. After another minute or so she pushed him away and stood up slowly. "Okay, I'm good," She said. The nausea was practically gone now.

"Should I hold the book up then?" Her dad asked as he sat down.

"It would probably be for the best," Carwyn agreed.

"After I touch it, right?" Taylor asked, getting a nod from Emhyr. She walked over, somewhat unsteady, and touched the corner of the book. It was more than twice as thick as _How to be a Fairy Queen._ The same golden light from before spread in ripples from where she touched to book. A wave of golden dust spread drifted off the book to sprinkle across the ground as the leather cover was restored to pristine condition and the title changed to say _Seventh Colonial_ in the same brass embossing.

"Seventh…" Carwyn stepped forward, "Step back, Your Grace. Let us set to work locating those we need." She took more than a couple of steps back as her dad leaned over and propped the book up. She found a seat up against an abandoned teacup and watched as they instructed her dad to flip to the table of contents.

It wasn't like any table of contents Taylor had ever seen before. The name of the unit, the Seventh Colonial, was written above a list that itemized those within the book by purpose and then by page.

"Interesting," Cadog spoke up as they scanned the first page, "I see that they did manage to find time to store some materials as well. There, at the bottom of the list."

"Later Cadog, later," Carwyn chided, "First let us secure this location. Unless you see anything that might help right now?" The smith shook his head.

"Unfortunately, no I don't," Cadog sighed, "Most of it is simply materials we won't be able to produce ourselves."

Taylor scanned the bottom of the list herself. What, exactly, was a thrice-bless yew seed? Was it, as the name suggested, a seed for a yew tree? Or something else? Was it intended to be planted, or used for something else? She held her questions. There would be plenty of time for questions later.

"What page do we need General?" Her dad prodded.

"Page fifty if you don't mind Lord Hebert," Carwyn requested. Danny flipped the pages until they reached the desired place. The page was simply a picture of two ranks of ten black silhouettes with the words 'Hunter Cadre' across the top. Five other silhouettes were off to one side of the page distinctly separated from the rest.

The General nodded. "Excellent," He said, "They'll do for tonight. We can get more in the morning, but they should be able to man a perimeter and get to work on scouting the area."

Her dad lay the book down. "Now what?" He asked.

"We need Fairy Dust to get them out. Not too much, however. We don't want to accidentally let out the entire book after all," Emhyr said.

"What is Fairy Dust?" Taylor asked.

Hywel scooped some of the golden dust from the tabletop. "This is Fairy Dust," He said, "Whenever a Fairy, you, in this case, perform magic some amount of it will crystallize into gold. Roughly two-thirds of this will dissipate within five minutes. Nearly all of the rest will lose its magic within a few hours. We don't need to worry about that. Even the stuff that would dissipate can still be used for this."

"There's a ton on the chair. Would that work?" Danny asked, standing up.

"Just a pinch," Carwyn called, getting a nod from her dad as he walked over to the recliner where Taylor had transformed. Now that she was looking at it, she could see a large amount of gold glitter littering the arms and seat of the chair. Her dad took a pinch off the armrest and came back.

"It feels warm," He said as he knelt down beside the table.

"Good, that means it still has magic. Now, sprinkle it gently across this page," Emhyr directed. Her dad did as asked and as the golden dust hit the page small bright lights flared and the dust sank into the paper. A warm feeling rolled off the book as the page lit up. Then, one by one, hands reached out of the now glowing silhouettes.

Twenty-five Dwarves pulled themselves out of the book. Each one was clad in cloth, chainmail, and wore a grey-green cloak over their shoulders. An unstrung bow hung from their back beside their quiver and a sword hung from each belt. The oldest looking among them wore a cap with a red feather in it.

As the Dwarves shook off their disorientation the cap-wearing fellow pushed his way through the milling Dwarves with purpose. He stopped as he reached the end of the book and looked down at Taylor and the four other Dwarves. "Nice to be let out," He said, taking a bow. "Hunt-Captain Gruffydd Harvard at your service, Your Grace. General." He nodded to the General as he rose from his bow.

"Welcome to two thousand and eleven Hunt-Captain," Carwyn greeted, "Yours is the first group let out. We need security for the Queen and scouts."

"My Cadre and I stand ready," Captain Gruffydd declared, spinning to face his men. "In ranks you sorry lot. Our new Queen is watching so shape up. Sergeant, get them organized." He barked the last order to a Dwarf wearing a dark orange cap.

"Aye Captain," He said before shouting his own orders and forcing the dwarves into line. Within moments a two rank deep line had formed with two extra dwarves off either end.

Taylor applauded politely as they saluted. Well, it probably wasn't the right thing to do, but then she wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do. She stopped after a moment, though she did get a smile from the Hunt-Captain.

"So," Her dad spoke up, "This is the group you want to protect my daughter." None of the hunters seemed surprised as he spoke. Then again, they wouldn't have been much in the way of hunters if they couldn't notice the human sitting behind them.

"They should be more than sufficient for tonight," Carwyn said, "Captain, establish a perimeter on this table. Wait before sending anyone out to scout this room."

"Would it help if I set up a staircase of books to climb down?" Her dad asked.

The Hunt-Captain turned to her dad. "That it would. Climbing up and down human furniture is often a pain unless one takes the fast route," He said.

"Fast route?" Taylor asked. The Captain mimed jumping off something with his hands. Joy. "Oh," she muttered. She had to wonder how tough dwarves were.

"I'll get those set up then. Anything else?" Her dad asked.

"Bedding materials if possible. Perhaps some cloth and small sticks? My cadre is skilled at setting up temporary shelters," Gruff suggested.

"I'll see what I can do," Her dad said, getting up. "Keep her safe," He told the group warningly. He left the room and the cadre scattered across the coffee table, scouring it for threats. The Hunt-Captain down from the book and along with the four original dwarves walked over to her.

"Your Grace," The Captain bowed formally as they reached her.

"Hello Captain," She replied politely. She turned to look at the General. "Now what?" She asked.

"Now you get some rest, I think," Carwyn replied, "Once we've got a small shelter set up at least. While you sleep we will make plans for how to handle the situation. We will probably need to speak with your father extensively. Just looking around this home of yours has become quite clear that the human world has changed prolifically since our time."

Taylor nodded and yawned as she thought about what time it had to be. "That sounds good," She said. She leaned back against the teacup with a sigh and closed her eyes as she half-listened to the dwarves as they broke into discussion.

Fifteen minutes later she was asleep when her dad returned with a bag of cotton balls, boxes of toothpicks and tongue depressors from the bathroom, and a sheet of purple cloth from the basement.

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	2. Chapter 1

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A Worm Fanfic

Dreaming of Fairies

By: Grounders10

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Chapter One

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The warmth was suffocating. That was the first thing that drifted through her mind as she came awake. Taylor groaned and pushed the blanket off her as she blinked blearily. The world slowly came into focus as she stared at the ceiling. She blinked. That wasn't the ceiling of her bedroom. It sure as hell wasn't the ceiling of the living room either.

Easing herself up she looked around at the unfamiliar room. The last thing she could recall was nodding off against a teacup on the coffee table surrounded by dwarves. This room was, obviously, not the coffee table.

To start with, the bed was actually a bed with a mattress, flower printed sheets that smelled like they had been in storage for way too long without a wash, and a nice pillow. All in her four inches of height. Assuming she was still four inches tall.

Taylor pulled a lock of her hair into sight. It was a dark crimson like it had been the night before. A quick glance and a flex of underused muscles produced a faint buzz from the wings that were definitely there. "Not a dream then," She muttered as she turned her attention back to the room. The floors were old hardwood with small visible gaps between each plank. The walls were painted mint green with pink flowers that seemed just a touch out of focus, as though they weren't meant to be seen from quite this close. Light poured into the room from a window passed the foot of her bed. A writing desk sat beneath the window. Following the line of the wall around the room, the next wall had a large bay window with a cushioned bench and a pair of low bookshelves on either side. Directly across from the first window was a white door followed by a dresser and a wardrobe. The last wall had a vanity and a floor-length mirror beside a closet door.

The bed creaked as she stood up as padded out into the middle of the room. If it wasn't for the fact that she was still clearly a fairy, she would have thought that everything was back to normal. The bed was sized for her. The ceiling was probably about eight to ten feet tall. Everything looked so… so normal.

"Where am I?" She asked the room at large. There was no answer, though the room echoed slightly with her question. Then she caught a bit of movement in the corner of her eye. She spun on the spot and stopped immediately. It was the floor-length mirror. She stared at the strange girl in the mirror and slowly walked up to it for a better look. She was slight in the torso with a roundish, almost child-like face. Crimson red hair hung below her shoulders only a few shades off that of blood.

Taylor leaned in to examine her face in the mirror. She didn't look as childlike as she had first thought, but distance wasn't going to be a friend of hers at all. She tried smiling. It wasn't as wide as before and her lips seemed a bit fuller. Her eyes were just as big, though, with glittering green irises a few shades brighter than they had been before. Overall, the effect was that of a very pretty young woman.

She frowned, this wasn't her face. The hair was nice, not the carrot top look of Emma's, but a much nicer shade of crimson. If it wasn't for the fact that it was replacing the black hair she had inherited from her mother she might have actually liked the look. The rest of the changes were nice as well, but this wasn't her. "Who are you?" She asked, feeling relief as she listened to her voice. It might have been a touch higher pitched, but she couldn't quite be sure. Either way, it sounded close enough given her diminutive size.

The face in the mirror was pretty, but it wasn't her. She closed her eyes and looked away for a moment, taking a deep relaxing breath. With luck, they could fix that… most of it anyway. The hair at least… She liked the new smile.

Another deep breath later she turned back to the mirror to inspect the rest of the changes to her body. She started at the top. She twisted in front of the mirror. The fairy in the mirror, her, was slight up top with thin delicate arms, a nice waist, and a chest that could actually count as female. She crossed her arms beneath it and lifted slightly. "Speaking of improvements to keep," She muttered. After years of imitating a two by four this was a very nice improvement. Sure they had nothing on Emma, but this made it clear she was a girl an not an androgynous stick of wood. Her preening continued for a few moments before her eyes wandered lower and she stared. Then cocked a hip. Then the other side.

"What is with my butt?" She asked, twisting to get a better look. It was difficult, her wings kept twitching to the side and getting into her view, but she managed to get a good idea. "Look at that ass," She said as she stared. She tried to think of a girl at school that looked this bottom heavy. Outside of the few overweight girls, she couldn't come up with one.

"I guess I have the better butt now Emma," She grinned slightly at the silly thought. Here she was turned into a fairy and all she could think about was how jealous Emma would be if she knew. Of course, her former friend would have probably spouted some acidic comment about how she was getting fat. This wasn't fat, this was purely good genes… or magic. Probably magic really. Parahuman bullshit.

Her ass was still amazing.

Taking her thoughts back under control she redirected her attention. Her legs barely warranted a glance before her eyes went to the two most defining new features of her new body. The wings. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at the insect-like protrusions from around her shoulder blades. Their predominant colour was a dark leaf green with panels of translucent ruby red. Silver tracery lined each panel and drew geometric shapes across the rest. They were long enough to reach down to her knees with a general shape reminiscent of a fly's.

She tried to open them and they quivered, buzzing loudly as she tried to get them to open. They twitched and slowly they separated, revealing a second layer of wings beneath the first. The noise they made as the layers parted was wet and the underlayer had a damp shine to it. The first layer of wings stretched outward, twitching with the effort it took, but by the time they were nearly pointing directly to her sides the effort was too much and she stopped trying. They folded back as they relax and she sighed at the feeling of muscles untensing. Despite that, she still wanted to experiment with them.

She lightly pinched the wing. Despite appearances, the material felt strong. It certainly wasn't tearing or even feeling the pressure she was placing on it. She let go at a knock on the door. "Come in," She called, turning back to the door as it swung open.

The Loremaster entered the room. It was strange seeing a dwarf that was taller than a door handle. "Your Grace, it is good to see you up," he bowed.

"Loremaster," she smiled. "Where are we?" Finally, someone to answer her questions.

"It is easier to show you," he gestured to the window by the door. She left the mirror behind and joined him. The window looked out over a deck that ringed whatever building they were in. Beyond the deck was a place Taylor was very familiar with.

"We're in the kitchen?" She asked, spotting the sink in the distance. The faucet loomed like a crag of smooth rock jutting from a mountain in the distance.

"Your dad went looking for better accommodations," Emhyr said, "He found this place in the attic amidst things they had received from your Grandmother and placed it on the kitchen table when he realized it wouldn't fit the coffee table."

Taylor leaned forward to look down at the tabletop. There was a camp forming in front of the dollhouse, it had to be a dollhouse, made from sheets of cloth, toothpicks, and tongue depressors. A large and low bowl in the near distance seemed to be set up for bathing. "Huh," she murmured before frowning. There were a lot more than twenty dwarves just going by the tents. "Why are there so many?" She asked.

"We let more out after you fell asleep. Your father agreed with us," he said, "We simply did not have enough manpower for the tasks at hand."

"Those being?" She asked. If she was going to be their Queen then she should probably try and keep up with what they were doing.

"Scouting mostly," he explained, "This house of yours is massive compared to the old homes we are familiar with and without many of our usual forms of transportation available we have to walk the distances instead."

She winced as she considered the sheer size of her family's house now that she was tiny. "That is going to take a while…" she mused.

"Unfortunately," he sighed, "We brought out several more cadres of hunters, a team of twenty builders, and a dozen smiths. We are closing in on a hundred dwarves now."

That was a lot more than the four they had started with, but as she watched the dwarves go about their business she couldn't help but feel that just covering her home was going to take a lot more. Her stomach grumbled, interrupting their conversation. "Um," she blushed.

The Loremaster chuckled. "We have food downstairs in the kitchen. I could have it brought up if you wish?" He offered.

She shook her head. "I'll come down." The air was a bit on the stuffy side anyway. She followed the elderly dwarf out of the room and into the hall. Light filtered in from a large window at the far end and the double glass doors leading out onto the porch to her right. There were two doors leading to rooms on the other side of the hall and a third door down the wall from hers. Stairs lead up and down in the middle of the room. A single dwarf in chain mail was standing guard by the window. He bowed as they went passed.

"Washroom," The Loremaster said pointing to the door on her side of the hall, "Office and another bedroom. The water is not hooked up, and neither is the electricity I'm told."

"Water and electricity?" Taylor repeated as they walked down the steps.

Emhyr shrugged. "I am hardly an expert on such matters, but your father said that this place had the potential to have both. I wasn't aware humans built such extravagances into their toy houses."

"We don't normally," she frowned as they stepped off the stairs into a beautiful entrance hall. Wide doors to either side showed off the sitting room and the dining room/kitchen. A pair of dwarven guards stood to either side of the main entrance. "You said this came from my Grandmother?" She asked.

"Yes. Your father said it was among the things they received from her will," Emhyr said, "Why?"

Taylor chewed a fingernail as she thought. "The same Grandmother who the chest came from?" She prodded.

"I didn't ask, but possibly?" Emhyr said slowly, his own mind evidently running over the same thoughts.

"Hm…" Taylor frowned. She had to wonder what the odds were that there just happened to be a dollhouse of the perfect size for her. One that was capable of, potentially, having running water and electricity? Well, 50s or 60s electricity. This place looked and smelled old like no one had lived in it for years. Was it even safe to plug it in? Or run water through it?

She shook those thoughts off as her stomach grumbled. She could ask her dad later. "Where is the food?" She asked.

"This way, Your Grace," Emhyr directed, leading her into the dining room where a table by the big bay windows was covered with plates of food, most of it pastries. A dwarf in a chef's uniform was cleaning the center table as they walked in. He glanced up, then promptly fell to one knee as she entered, abandoning his washcloth in the process.

Taylor stared for a moment before the reason crept in from the back of her mind. "Right… Queen," she muttered. "Thank you," she said politely, gesturing for the chef to rise. "Who are you?"

The dwarf rose to his feet. "Tomos, Your Grace. Pastry chef," he replied hurriedly.

"Your work I guess?" She asked with a smile, walking over to the table. The plates had been picked over mostly.

"Yes, Your Grace. Uh, if you wish to take a seat somewhere I can bring the food I set aside for you," He suggested, looking rather awkward.

"These look fine to me," She said, taking what appeared to be a sausage roll from one of the plates. "Unless this isn't a sausage roll?" She asked.

"No, it is Your Grace. It's just…" The dwarf looked to be at a complete loss.

"It isn't done, Your Grace," Emhyr explained.

She gave him a flat look, then took a deliberate bite out of the sausage roll. The Loremaster sighed while the pastry chef looked aghast. "It's quite good Tomos," she told him with an annoyed look at the Loremaster.

"Your Grace, such behaviour-" the older dwarf quieted as she held up her hand.

"Is there another Fairy around here?" She asked. He shook his head. "Exactly. Need I remind you, _this was without my consent_." She pointed at him with a danish that she then took a bite out of. "I 'm n't go'g." She swallowed, "to be tied down by a bunch of stuffy old fogies who have been dead for over a hundred years. Besides, we don't exactly have the luxury of luxury. Now, do we?" She took another bite of the danish.

"No, Your Grace," Emhyr sighed in the tone of someone who did not agree, but who saw no sense of arguing.

"Good," she smirked before turning to the chef again. "Now, I haven't eaten since yesterday, so just bring as much as you can. Is there a place outside I can sit?"

"There is a small table to the right of the door, Your Grace," Tomos said almost woodenly. Whoops, she may have broken something.

"I'll be there," She said, stealing another roll from the table as she headed out of the room. The Loremaster followed her as she left the house and turned right on the porch to find a small two-person table. The seats gave her pause as she noticed their backs before she spotted the gaps between the back and the seat. It took a moment of coordination to get her wings to slide in there, but she managed. She barely even felt anything as she leaned back in the chair.

She turned to look out over the tabletop at the encampment. She could see Hywel and Cadog in the camp, both working with groups to get things dealt with. Of Carwyn, she saw nothing, but it was likely he was either somewhere in the house or in one of the three larger tents.

"So," she began as Emhyr came up to her, "how did that chef cook the pastries?"

"With heat, I imagine, Your Grace," The old dwarf said. She shot him a look at the dry tone of voice he used.

"You know what I mean," she huffed.

"The books have materials in them as well as Dwarves," he replied, "While the Fairy Dust you created yesterday has lost its magic by now, it was active long enough for us to get a few useful items out. Enchanted field kitchens were amongst the items in the back of the book. They just so happen to include ovens."

"Hmm…" That did make sense. This was supposed to be their time capsule into the future to save their race. Only an idiot would send them off without tools. While she waited for, and then ate, breakfast she quietly pondered what else would be in the books. Dwarves, undoubtedly, but there had been mention of Brownies? And with the equipment, what else was waiting to be drawn out?

"Where's my dad?" She asked as she finished breakfast.

"Out of the house. He said something about legal advice and that he would be picking up materials on his way back," The Loremaster told her.

She nodded. "So, what is the plan for today?" She asked.

"That depends on what you wish to pursue, Your Grace," he replied.

Taylor picked a few crumbs off the plate. "I have no idea where to start," she admitted.

Emhyr took the chair across from her. It groaned slightly under his weight. "I have a few plans, some of which I imagine you would rather not deal with. Etiquette training for one," he said.

"No thank you," she replied.

He nodded. "Then perhaps some exercises for your wings would be a good place to start. Followed by some introductory magic lessons."

Taylor considered. "That… I would like to learn to fly," she admitted.

"Then we shall start on the exercises. Inside, or out?" He asked.

"We can try inside. I'd like to see the rest of the house," she decided. It would be something to talk to her dad about when he got home… "Emhyr," she began.

"Yes, Your Grace?" He asked.

"How did you talk to my dad without shouting?" She asked, mystified.

"Ah, that. Magic, of course. Not all too complicated, even we dwarves can manage it. In fact, nearly any Fae you can think of can manage that trick if they want," he said.

"Can you teach me?" She asked. It would be nice to talk normally to her dad.

"Once you have the magical basics down, yes," he agreed.

"Then let's get started on the exercises. The sooner we're done, the sooner you can start teaching me," she said, standing up. He chuckled, provoking a small blush of embarrassment.

"Let us do this inside, as you asked. I believe the living room will have plenty of space," he mused as he led the way back inside. Taylor eagerly followed, bouncing slightly as she kept pace.

-0-0-0-0-0-

It was dark when her dad arrived home. He came in the front door carrying a large cardboard box full of groceries. Subsequent trips out to the truck brought more food, nearly all canned, a dozen two by fours, and ten sheets of plywood. A final trip saw a box full of string, twine, and five different kinds of tape join the pile.

"What is all this for?" Taylor asked from the balcony outside her room, still shouting to be heard. While she had managed to tap into what Emhyr referred to as 'mana' all she had managed was a puff of glitter that they were still trying to get out of the seat cushions in the living room. Describing it was difficult, mana being different from her other senses. It was very much the situation of trying to describe colour to a blind man.

Her dad noticed her gesturing and pulled a seat up by the table. "Sorry, I didn't quite hear you, Taylor. Are you doing alright?" He asked, leaning down to her level.

"I'm fine. What is that all about?" She gestured to the stacks of food and woodworking materials. "And what took you so long?"

He shrugged his jacket off onto the chair. "Well, the food is stuff I'm sure that the dwarves can use. Canned ham, different canned vegetables, a whole bunch of dried stuff. It should be enough to let us let out a few more if we need to," he explained.

"And the wood?" She asked.

"Well… what do you think of the house?" He asked.

"It's…" Taylor considered, "Oddly convenient."

He chuckled weakly. "I know what you mean. A dollhouse perfectly sized for you just happens to be in the attic. I'd be worried if I wasn't so thankful."

That was a sentiment she shared. "Emhyr said something about electricity and running water?" She added.

He nodded. "I was rather surprised to find out that it had an electrical cord. I did a bit of research and it turns out it wasn't unusual for higher-end dollhouses in that era to be designed as 'fully functional' including electricity and water. I wouldn't trust it myself, but maybe we can get someone to look at it?"

Taylor snorted. "So you got me a fixer-upper then?" She snarked, getting a chuckle from her dad. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. As it was starting to get awkward Taylor looked back at the house. "How would we pay for that? And who… who could we trust? The dwarves haven't a clue about electricity."

"That was what took the most time today, actually," her dad reached around and fished one of those chemistry vials out of his coat. He held it up to her. It was several inches longer than she was tall and filled with gold dust and flakes larger than her hands. "I made an appointment for tomorrow to find out if we can sell this."

"Gold dust? Where did you get so much?" Taylor leaned over the railing to get a closer look.

"From you."

She looked up. "What?"

He wiggled the vial. "Whenever you do that golden light thing you leave a bunch of this behind. This entire vial came from dusting off the kitchen table after last night."

"I thought it faded?" Taylor's forehead scrunched as she tried to remember what it was Hywel had said exactly.

"Most of it does. The rest becomes pure gold," her dad said with a chuckle, "I took this vial to see how real the gold was. The guy I know said it was gold. He wasn't quite sure how pure, but I think we both know that it is probably fairly pure. That puts this half-ounce of gold dust at around… what was it… one thousand and four hundred dollars of gold."

"Jesus Christ," Taylor said, staring at the vial.

"I filled another two vials from the kitchen table and I haven't even touched the mess in the living room yet," her dad sighed. "That is going to be a pain, but at a guess, I think we've got at least a few pounds of gold dust covering the recliner. It's probably going to take a vacuum cleaner to get it out of the carpet and then there are a few more ounces from the coffee table." Taylor's knees wobbled and she stumbled back to sit on the bench behind her.

"I-" She shook her head. She tried to do the math and boggled a bit at the number that came up. "That's at least thirty-five thousand dollars a pound," she breathed, her voice failing to carry to her dad.

"Assuming at least three pounds, at a minimum, we're looking at over a hundred thousand dollars worth of gold. If we're allowed to sell it," her dad said with a tired expression.

Taylor stared blankly at the vial of gold. It hadn't sunk in earlier, but now that the numbers were laid out before her it was starting to seem so silly. Her powers created gold as a side effect. Hell, the puff of Fairy Dust in the dollhouse's living room earlier had been caused by an ill-timed sneeze. "I sneeze gold," She muttered, giggling. Her voice spiked with a hysterical tone. She sneezed gold.

All of their money problems were solved. All of them. Possibly forever. If they were allowed to sell it at least. But if it was just gold, then why wouldn't they be?

The porch creaked as Hywel stepped out onto the wooden walkway. "Your Grace?" His voice was questioning as she tried to stop giggling.

"Just talking about money," her dad said.

"Ah." The finely dressed Dwarf's eyes came to rest on the vial of gold. "Fairy Dust. Are you planning on selling it?" He asked.

"Once I know how to, yes," Danny replied. He weighed the vial in his hand before slipping it back into his coat pocket. "I'll admit normally I would be a bit wary about exploiting the side effects of my daughter's powers for money, but I'm afraid that with your presence our expenses are about to spike. Excessively so."

Hywel winced. "Yes, well that wasn't the original plan," he said, launching into an explanation. "You see, the plan calls for the establishment of a proper court with the ability to be entirely independent of the original infrastructure. The _Seventh Colonial_ is intended to be able to kickstart all areas of agriculture and industry that we normally rely on. From mining, to construction, to enchanting, to farming for both food and enchanting materials. In fact, I am positive that one of the books is dedicated exclusively to farming and most likely includes a stock of the beasts we normally raise."

"You have livestock?" Her dad asked as Taylor finally managed to stifle her manic giggling enough to listen, even if she was still shaking occasionally with repressed giggles.

"Oh yes. Many of the legendary beasts from folklore are hardly as large as humanity likes to make them, Unicorns for example," Hywel said.

"Unicorns?" Taylor perked up, "What about unicorns? Do we have unicorns?"

Hywel blinked as she popped up from her giggle induced slump. "Yes, Your Grace. Well, probably, Your Grace. We haven't had a chance to check all of the books and there aren't any in the seventh," He babbled.

"I hope there are," Taylor crossed her arms and leaned back. She was liking this more and more. Sure, she was four inches tall, but there seemed to be a lot of perks to the whole Fairy Queen thing.

"I have to wonder what you use Unicorns for?" Her dad asked.

"Mostly the same as you would a horse," Hywel replied, "They were popular among Fairies as recreational mounts. Dwarves like myself tend to use stockier breeds as draft animals, and Elves have bred some rather aggressive varieties for use in their ground-bound shock cavalry. Most other Fae tend to treat them as pets if they care for them at all."

"No use for magic?" Taylor asked.

"Several. Few good, however," he sighed. "Magically they are a very pure species. To my knowledge, any good spells that involve a Unicorn require them to be alive. Anything using the parts or body of a dead unicorn… Best not to think about it." Taylor winced at the thought of someone who could kill a unicorn for use in magic.

An awkward silence fell on the conversation before her dad sighed and stood. "I'm going to make myself dinner, then we can talk about where you want to set up the dollhouse, for now, that isn't on the kitchen table. Also, Hywel."

"Yes?"

Danny gestured to the stack of wood. "I have the wood you asked for," he said.

"I noticed. Thank you Lord Hebert," Hywel replied with a bow. "On the matter of a place to stay, perhaps the corner with the bookshelves in your living room? Move them out of the way and set up one of those folding tables you mentioned? My craftsmen can take the work from there since you have supplied the materials."

"I'll take a look after dinner. Taylor, do you want anything?" Her dad asked.

She shook her head. "I just ate," She shouted. Her dad nodded and turned to the kitchen fridge.

"Your father is a good man," Hywel observed as he joined her in watching the human set to work on his dinner. "He shows great concern for you."

Taylor looked away, hiding the grimace she couldn't help but wear. Her dad was handling this quite well. He was acting a bit more like how he had before her Mum had died. She hoped that this meant he'd snapped out of the place he'd been ever since. "Yeah. He's doing really well," she said, standing up again. "I'm tired, sore, and I'm pretty sure I've got glitter in my hair again. Did you set up that magic bath that you mentioned earlier?"

The Dwarves had pulled out additional equipment from the book with the Fairy Dust she had produced during practice time. Included had been an enchanted portable bath which Taylor had promptly claimed since it came out of the _How To Be a Queen_ book.

"We replaced the upstairs bath with it. We've stored the old one in a closet downstairs for now," Hywel said, "I also took the liberty of having the sink replaced with one of those we pulled out of the book. You should have plenty of water to work with for now. I wish we had enough to replace the entire home with them."

"Limited space," Taylor shrugged as she brushed past him.

"An unfortunate truth, Your Grace. The men, however, are quite thankful that what spares you had have been assigned to the bathing facilities for the troops," he commented as he followed her into the second floor of the house.

"They're doing a lot more than I am right now, they need it more," she shrugged. She paused by the railing around the stairwell as a thought occurred to her. "Though… Hywel, do we have soap and shampoo? And, I just realized I don't think I have anything else to wear other than this." She gestured to the top and skirt she had been wearing since the day before.

The Dwarf looked very awkward as he tried to not stare at her. It probably wasn't fair to spring this on him right before she went for a bath. "I- ah, a thought. There may be something placed away into your book. I imagine they would not have wanted to leave their successor naked." He frowned then muttered, "Though depending on who was in charge of that aspect I wouldn't put it past some of them."

Taylor grimaced. "Can you check? I'll wait in my room for now. I think the fairy dust left should still have some charge?"

"For another hour or so at least," he agreed, "I'll see to it." He bowed and she sent him on his way before making her way back to the bedroom she had woken up in that morning. The room was lit by the harsh fluorescent light that filtered through the windows, sending shadows cavorting across the walls. She flopped, uncaring, onto the bed and sighed into her pillow at the feeling of soft warmth.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Magic was not as arcane as Taylor had first thought. This realization came to her as she stood on the balcony of her dollhouse three days later after it had been relocated to a corner of the living room. A soft golden light trailed behind her fingers as she traced glowing lines of fairy dust in the air.

From a chair nearby Loremaster Emhyr watched with his arms crossed. "Hrm, good. Are you having any issues feeling the mana?" He asked.

"Not anymore," She shook her head as she absently twirled on the spot, sending particulate Fairy Dust everywhere as she drew glowing lines. The skirting of her green dress flared the slight bit it was able to. Mana was the core of magic. It was the natural flow of energies created by the presence of beings capable of thought and imagination. The Fae had a natural ability to draw on the mana in the world and control it. With Faeries, this tended to manifest as Fairy Dust unless the Fairy was skilled enough to redirect the mana from its most natural expression.

Her first few lessons had been spent entirely on feeling out mana and learning to draw on it. At first, it had been virtually impossible to properly comprehend. She simply hadn't been able to feel mana. That had changed around the time she managed to sneeze into existence a cloud of Fairy Dust. With the hurtle of noticing mana out of the way, things had proceeded much smoother since.

She could feel the mana in the air, though air wasn't the right word. It wasn't part of the atmosphere and even if there hadn't been any air there would still be mana. Mana floated in the background, a listless directionless blanket of energy that only shifted when someone dragged their will along it. And dragging her will across it was getting easier with each day so far.

"Good, good," Emhyr smiled, "And your wings? Are they sore?" They had done more exercises to help her adapt to having wings earlier.

Taylor flexed her wings. They spread without conscious thought, the top layer of wings easily extending to the sides while the lower layer spread out by her legs. They buzzed as she beat them fast enough to blur. "They feel good. This is easy," she said.

"Excellent. Then we can move onto more useful things," the Loremaster informed her, standing up from his chair.

"You mean flying?" She asked hopefully. Magic was the key to flight for Fairies, their wings simply couldn't lift them easily otherwise. While a Fairy could, in theory, fly without magic, it was a tiring act that produced vastly inferior speeds. Only magic could allow a Fairy to achieve the flight abilities they were famous for.

"And talking with humans without shouting. I believe you wished to learn that as well," he smiled. His eyes glittered with amusement as she pumped a fist.

"Yes!" She smiled. Flight was one of the things she wanted to learn the most since becoming a Fairy.

"I'll let Hywel know to get the preparations finished then. With your leave, Your Grace?" He bowed. She waved him off.

"Go on," She shooed him. He hurried back inside and she sighed, stepping forward to lean on the railing. The last three days had been a confusing mixture of exciting, frantic, and confusing. It had been productive at least. Using mana was a heady experience, not literally thankfully but the potential powers she had heard of from the Loremaster had made her start giggling maniacally once or twice. Or thrice… She wouldn't admit to more than four times.

Of course, it wasn't just her who was doing well. Her dad had taken out one of their old homemade folding tables and set it up in the corner of the living room where they had used to keep a pair of bookshelves. The shelves had been moved to the upstairs hallway while Taylor's desperately-in-need-of-reno dollhouse became a permanent fixture of the room. With the large space, the dwarves had set about turning the two by fours and plywood sheets into a small village of homes, workshops, and a barracks. An elevator of twine, plywood, and a pair of small pulley wheels, recovered from somewhere in the basement, served as a way down to the carpeted floor where a small fortified outpost had been set up to guard the way up and oversee the 'harvesting' of the materials her dad had brought.

As she watched a group of dwarves were lifting a stack of fresh wooden tiles with a primitive crane they had assembled on the third day. The group of dwarves on the roof of what she was told was going to be a tailor's shop accepted the load from the crane and began unloading it onto the roof. She hoped whoever went into that shop knew what they were doing since she could use a few new outfits that were less… pre-approved.

The dress she was wearing had come from the _How to be a Queen _book and resized itself to fit the moment she put it on. As had the large wardrobe of clothes they had retrieved over the last few days. The issue was… She spared a glance downward. It said something that the tight-fitting dress that went down to mid-thigh, had a boob window, and long sleeves of sheer silk was considerably more modest than nearly everything else in the wardrobe.

She had shoved most of the outfits into the closet and tried to forget they existed. Those that she was willing to wear were hung in the wardrobe or stuffed into the dresser. Most of them were beautiful tops, skirts, and dresses. As it was she was lacking in a few areas and could use a talented seamstress to fill those areas out. Pants, for example, were absolutely missing. Everything in her wardrobe from her first outfit to the stack of castoffs in her closet had seemingly been designed to show off her long legs. Really, it reminded her of the one time she had mistakenly allowed Emma to buy for her without going along. It had taken six months to properly purge her closet that time without offending her friend and would have taken longer if she hadn't hit a growth spurt three months in.

Though she had to admit, she did look good in the clothes. She just wished for a few pairs of pants to add to it.

She pushed off the railing and headed back inside, nodding to the dwarf on guard by the door on her way to the stairs up. General Carwyn had claimed the third floor as a command center. In practice that meant he got the one bedroom up there and the rest of it was turned into a large war room with an ever more detailed map of her home. Nothing beyond it had been filled in yet, but the General had said they'd get to it once they had managed to clear out the house.

Taylor emerged into the war room to find it quiet for once. The last several days had seen it overrun with messengers and populated by loud arguments between Hunt-Captain Gruff Harvard and the General. It seemed that their preferred methods of operation were quite different. Not surprising, since as she had learned the hunters were normally autonomous of military authority. They operated in cadres that roamed around and between settlements clearing out dangers like rodents, aggressive fae creatures, and human traps. They were meant to be the first ones to encounter enemies marching on the cities and towns of the Court. Guard duty was not normally a part of their methodology.

"Alone today General?" She asked as she walked over to the table on which Carwyn was compiling the many reports into a cohesive map. Other than the four guards in each corner there was no one else in the room.

He looked up and nodded a greeting. "Your Grace, welcome. And uh, yes I am. Finally, with the release of a platoon of actual soldiers from the _Seventh_ I've assigned the Hunt-Captain and the three cadres of hunters to manning the bottom of the elevator and scouting the area. I'm just compiling their reports." He tapped the stack of papers. "I have to say that the availability of paper is making things a lot easier than they used to be."

Taylor glanced over the work he was doing. "This kind of thing seems a bit below a General," she observed. Wasn't this the sort of thing a General had aides for? While you probably shouldn't take war movies as good tactical advice, wasn't managing the maps a thing that you had subordinates do? It left the important planning work for the senior officers where their experience was more valuable.

"Compiling reports into a map and planning out strategies is exactly what a General should be doing," Carwyn said, "How else am I to understand where everything is, what needs doing, and begin to plan how to tackle it?"

Taylor shrugged. "I'm not a soldier, so I have no idea. But, from what I recall these days Generals tend to have helpers. A lot of them," she said as she examined the map.

"Hrm… Well, it's not like we have the dwarves to spare," Carwyn sighed, "We're short-staffed on everything right now. But until we get more housing set up we are limited in how many dwarves I feel comfortable bringing out, and that's not even getting into financial issues that your Father and Hywel keep reminding us. Until that gold gets sold we're limited in what we can bring in."

"If it wasn't for the fact that there are a million people in those books I'd be tempted to just stay put here," Taylor said as she examined the steadily expanding map.

"It is a daunting prospect to be sure," the General sighed, "And your family is of average means?"

"A bit under these days," Taylor replied as she ran a finger over the map, "Have you considered asking dad for a copy of the blueprints to base this off of? Because I think you've got the measurements wrong already. The living room isn't thirty feet wide here." She tapped the map.

Carwyn checked the map and raised an eyebrow. "A family of your means has blueprints of your home?"

"If we don't have a copy the city should. I think anyway," Taylor tapped her lower lip as she thought.

Carwyn leaned over and scrawled a question mark beside the width of the room. He sighed. "Every time I turn around this time throws yet another innovation at me. That… Television last night was a shock. Humans with moving pictures of such vivid quality and audio… I never expect to wake up in an age of wonders."

Taylor blushed. "They aren't that amazing," She mumbled awkwardly. Certainly compared to a tinker ordinary technology was only okay. But, perhaps that was due to the change in perspective that a hundred and fifty years brought.

"I would have to disagree, Your Grace. I have had Hywel, Cadog, and their craftsmen bothering me about the possibilities if we could study modern crafts. I have kept their excitement under control for now, but even I will admit a certain level of curiosity about what could be accomplished by combining Dwarven ingenuity with modern Human innovation," he replied. A finger traced a line on the map and the general glanced down at a report. He muttered something about terrible scouts and set about erasing the numbers by a vague sketch of the location of the sofa.

"Well, you seem rather busy so I think I'm going to head off General. Maybe Hywel has finished his preparations for Emhyr to teach me how to fly," she grinned.

The General raised an eyebrow at her. "Already?"

"Yep."

"Hrm, I had expected at least another week. Congratulations are in order, Your Grace," he said with a nod.

"Thank you."

"Still, if you are going to be flying about this house under your own power soon…" Carwyn tapped his chin with the charcoal stick. "I believe it is time to start training you to defend yourself. Assuming Emhyr has no issues I will be taking charge of your training in the mornings."

"Um…" She swallowed nervously as the old warrior looked her over.

"You have an atypical build for a fairy. A fair bit more mass than most, but we should be able to figure out what you have a talent for and work from there. I will see you tomorrow morning. Good day, Your Grace," He said with a bow before returning to his work as Taylor stared at him for a long moment before mumbling her thanks and quickly leaving the room.

What was she getting into now?

-0-0-0-0-0-

Taylor was relaxing on the first-floor porch with a plate of pastries while watching the dwarves wrestle a large sponge into position beneath the balcony when there was a large bang and the world shook. "TAYLOR!" She blinked at her dad's shout. He sounded frustrated and angry.

A minute later he entered the living room carrying a chair as he carefully navigated the cluttered room. He set it down beside the table and sat down with a grunt. Taylor got up and walked over to the end of the porch closest to her dad. "DAD?" She called questioningly as he rubbed his forehead.

"I'm not angry at you," He clarified immediately, leaning forward to rest his head on his knuckles. "I just spent an hour on the phone with the school."

"What? WHY?" She asked loudly.

"Apparently your locker was vandalized. They discovered it this morning," he scowled. "From the way, their questions about you were going it sounded like they were trying to find a way to blame you for it."

Taylor grimaced. It had to be a prank by Emma and the others. "I would never-"

"I don't believe for a second you did. They were playing vague and loose, but by the sounds of it the school is going to be closed for the next three weeks at a minimum," he said.

She blinked and stared. She mouthed the time to herself. Three weeks? Three!? What the hell had Emma, Madison and Sophia been planning for her? She stumbled over to a nearby chair and sat there nibbling on a pastry.

Meanwhile, her dad retrieved the remote and moved to the sofa to get a better view of the TV as he turned it on. It was nearly noon and the news came on in short order. The news opened with the same annoying jingle it had had for as long as Taylor could remember before going to the studio. A man and a woman were sitting behind the news desk.

"_I'm Shawn Garble," _began the male News Anchor.

"_And I'm Sarah Sandwell," _the woman beside him added.

"_And this is Brockton Bay Channel Seven News. We jump straight into the thick of it today with the shocking events at a high school early this morning. Winslow High School has been shut down today following what some sources are calling an act of bioterrorism,"_ began Shawn, "_While details are scarce, witnesses report hazmat teams belonging to the CDC are on-site and a police cordon is being erected around the school."_

"_This is hardly the first time that police have been called to what many consider the worst High School in Brockton Bay,"_ Sarah picked up, "_Over the last few decades the school has seen a steady rise in gang activities. Whether that is related to today's incident has yet to be answered."_

Shawn leaned forward in his seat. "_Now we go live to the scene where our reporter Beverly Renee is waiting."_ The picture on the TV jumped from the studio to a street where a well dressed blonde woman was standing behind a crowd that was gathering near a line of police officers. "_Beverly, what can you tell us?"_

"_Not much, unfortunately," _she sighed before gesturing to the crowds behind her, "_Behind me is the police cordon at the intersection of fifty-third and Oak Street. This is one of over a dozen checkpoints being set up by the BBPD around the school."_

"_Just the BBPD?"_ Shawn asked.

"_That's right,"_ Beverly nodded, "_There is no sign of the PRT or Protectorate thus far and what information available so far suggests that this is unconnected to any parahuman activity. Witnesses say that while the school is locked down, the BBPD and CDC have been primarily concerned with the east wing of the school."_

Taylor blinked. East wing? That was where her locker was. Which meant that whatever had been planned for her return from the break had apparently been interpreted as an attempted terrorist attack? Emma and the others were horrible, but there was a big leap from elbowing her in the hallway and making snide remarks about her mother to… attempted murder? What had they even been planning?

Taylor rubbed the side of her head as she tuned out the news. This was way too strange. Their bullying had been falling off, why would they suddenly jump to this? Or was she jumping to conclusions? They didn't have to be the ones behind it. They were hardly the only people who bullied her. Hell, she had E88 bastards out for her sometimes just because of how her last name sounded. She could see one of them being dumb enough to take it this far.

"Your Grace?" She looked up to see Emhyr standing in front of her.

"Yes, Loremaster?" She asked, concealing a sigh of frustration.

"I overheard the discussion you had with your father," he began.

"I think everyone did," she said dryly, getting a wry chuckle from the old dwarf.

"I'm afraid so," he agreed, "But I take it you believe that this attack on the school was directed at you?" He both looked and sounded concerned.

"... Maybe," she admitted, "I haven't told dad, but… There are a few people at school who don't really like me." She didn't want to talk about Emma. It hurt to think about how cruel her old friend had become.

"I see…" He ran a hand through his beard as he stared at her. She was left with the impression that he probably understood more than she'd meant to say. "And they have been doing things for a prolonged time now?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Emhyr took a seat across from her. "This wouldn't happen to be one of the reasons you have accepted the course of events over the past few days," he gestured to the town that was being assembled, though the workers were currently watching the TV, "despite your misgivings."

"Not going to school is a nice change," she sighed. She used to love school, but High School had been nothing but hell since the moment she set foot in Winslow. "I just… I can't imagine what they did to get it classified as bioterrorism. They don't just toss out that sort of thing lightly."

"Given the situation, I'm afraid there is not much we can do to investigate on your behalf. I'm afraid the distance would be too far," Emhyr sighed.

Taylor waved him off. "I wasn't going to ask you to. I just wish I knew if this was connected to my locker or not…" She shook her head and stood up. "No point in just sitting here wondering. Are the preparations finished?"

Emhyr stood from his chair. "Aye. The landing pad is in place. We can begin flight training whenever you wish, Your Grace," he said.

Taylor nodded. "Let's get to that then," she said, gesturing for the old dwarf to lead the way. As she followed him the news in the background was speculating on the origin of the incident. She forcibly tuned it out again. It would just be a distraction from the important things.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Taylor had barely attempted to direct her magic through her wings when a bunch of loud knocks echoed through the house from the front door. Her dad, grumbling loudly enough to be heard across the room, stood up and muted the TV. "Back in a moment," he sighed as he headed for the door.

Taylor let her wings settle down, the magic bleeding out of them in a mist of Fairy Dust. If someone came inside it was probably best if she tried to avoid being too obvious. In fact, it would probably be better if they had everyone take cover for the moment. "Emhyr," she turned to the old dwarf, "can you get everyone inside?"

"A wise choice, You Grace," he nodded, stepping up to the balcony. "Everyone, abandon what you're doing if you can and get inside with all due haste." He pointed down to the dwarves who had been gawking at the news on TV. "One of you get to the elevator and take news down to the workmen. Hiding places. Now." Like a horde of startled roaches, the dwarves disappeared into the homes and shops in seconds. A trio of dwarves was left running for the elevator.

Taylor nodded her satisfaction as she let Emhyr guide her into the dollhouse. She found a seat on the bench in her room by the window and looked out at the living room. The window made things appear a bit distorted, but it did little to effect sound. The walls of the dollhouse simply weren't thick enough to do much of anything about sound on the scale humans operated on.

She could hear the door open and voices muffled by distance. They dropped off and for a few moments she had to wonder why before her dad's voice shouted loudly for the second time that day, "TAYLOR!" She winced. What now? "POLICE ARE HERE TO TALK TO US."

Oh. Taylor stared blankly out the window. The Police. "Emma, what did you do?" She breathed through a deep sigh. The voices were getting closer now. He probably hadn't found a good reason to turn them away then. Which meant she was going to need to talk to them. "Shit," she muttered. Even when she wasn't at school Emma was ruining things for her. This was not the plan. The plan had called on her to learn to fly and speak loudly before talking to normal-sized people.

She stood up and brushed off skirting. She would have to step out and talk. As she stepped out of her bedroom Emhyr was waiting for her. "Your Grace, do you think it is a good idea to go out there?" He asked.

"Don't really have a choice, do I?" She groaned as she walked over to the porch's double doors.

"We could-"

"Stay inside," she told him. She frowned at him. "Let them just think it's me for now." Hopefully, everyone else had found a hiding spot.

"I will obey, of course, but this is a terrible idea. You don't even know how to fly yet!" Emhyr protested. "There is a reason Fairies prefer to avoid entanglements with humans until they get older."

Taylor shrugged and adjusted her hair, brushing a lock behind one ear. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. At least it was just the police… Oh, who was she trying to kid, the police just made it worse. All it would take was one jumpy officer and she'd stop existing in anything except the metaphorical. Some bullets were bigger than she was.

Through the glass pane of the doors, she could see her dad lead two men in police uniforms into the room. One was older with greying black hair, while the other was young with straw-coloured blonde hair. Danny gestured to the dollhouse and the two police officers shared a look, one of them sighing. Right, time to make an appearance. Taylor took a steadying breath and pushed open the double doors. Holding her head high with false confidence she strode out onto the balcony.

"Christ," one of the officers took a sharp step back.

"Gentlemen, my daughter Taylor," her dad introduced her. Behind her, she could hear Emhyr mutter 'Queen Taylor'. Personally she thought it was smart to leave that little detail out of it. People tended to get jumpy when capes took to claiming royalty about as much as they did when they claimed divinity. She did not need that sort of attention.

She walked up to the railing and waved at the officers. One of them waved back. "Your daughter?" The other asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She was a lot taller before New Years," her dad replied. The officer scowled as he nodded his understanding.

"You realize that because she's a cape that means I'm going to have to pass this onto the PRT, right?" The officer pointed out.

"We were planning on waiting a few more days before approaching them anyway," Danny replied with a sigh.

"So this is very recent then? Last three days at most?" The other officer asked.

"New Year's day, practically at midnight," Her dad sighed.

The younger officer made a note while the older one sighed. "Well, as much as I'd like to ask a few questions now, we can't. The moment we encounter a cape during one of these investigations we have to back off and punt it up to the PRT," he pulled his cap off and scratched at the thinning black hair. "And here I was hoping we could go one high profile investigation without running into a cape for once."

"I'd say sorry, but…" Danny shrugged and made a 'what can you do' gesture.

"Yeah, don't be. We'll be outside waiting. Shouldn't be more than an hour before they send someone over to talk. Thank you for your time Mr. Hebert," the Officer offered a hand and they shook.

"Better luck with the rest of your investigation Officer," Her dad said.

"We'll see. Enjoy the rest of the day. Robby, let's go," the older Officer guided his younger counterpart out of the room. As they went he looked back for that last second before they disappeared around the corner. Her dad went with them. A few moments later she heard the front door open, then close. Her dad was back shortly after and he slowly crossed the room to sit down in the chair by the town.

"So, we've got the PRT in at most an hour. Given how much of a clusterfuck everything out there is right now I wouldn't bet them being more than a half-hour myself," Danny said. He leaned forward until he was nearly touching the dollhouse with his forehead. "Are you ready to talk with them?"

Taylor shook her head. "Not even close. I can't fly. I can't even talk to you normally," she replied loudly.

The porch creaked as Emhyr joined them. "We can fix that, I believe," he said.

"You think so?" Her dad asked. The elderly Dwarf nodded.

"The trick is fairly simple. To be entirely honest it's about as difficult as some of the control exercises I've been having Her Grace perform," the Loremaster said, "We would have to get started immediately though, and I can't guarantee that she'll have a consistent volume."

"Then we get started now," Taylor nodded. She was leaning against the railing, her nails digging into the paint. The PRT was coming. She released a very unsteady breath. This was days ahead of when they wanted to approach that organization.

"Then get to it. I'll try and delay a bit if they show early," he said, sitting up, "And I think it would be best if you didn't try to hide everyone. The BBPD might not notice, but we can't say the same of someone like Armsmaster or Dauntless."

Taylor sighed and nodded. It would be better to be mostly honest with the PRT. "Let's go," she told Emhyr and waved at her dad before leading the way back inside. Behind her, the Loremaster had already launched into the theory behind the technique. She nodded her understanding as she led him down the stairs to the living room. This was going to be the worst cram session of her life.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Tea time. For years Taylor had enjoyed a cup of tea when relaxing. Coffee had never been allowed when her mother was alive, but she was more than happy to share herbal tea with Taylor. While her dad probably wouldn't have said anything if she had started drinking coffee after her mother's death it had never interested her. It helped that tea had certain benefits.

Taylor sipped the tea that her teacher had provided and sighed. It felt good on her sore throat. "Thanks," she coughed.

"Don't speak unless you need to," the Loremaster chided.

"I'm going," she took a sip and cleared her throat, "to need to." He raised an eyebrow and she took another sip rather than respond. The good news was that she had figured out how to talk at a volume a regular human could understand. The issue was… well…

"There is a reason we normally space this practice out over several days. And take more than forty minutes to explain and attempt it," Emhyr sighed as sipped his own cup of tea. She nodded her understanding. Her throat probably wouldn't have been hurt as much if she hadn't messed up so badly on the first ten attempts.

"This is going to suck," she grumbled. She set the teacup down and leaned through the broken window to get a look at the clock hanging in the living room. There was still ten minutes before the hour they had been given was going to expire. Apparently, her dad had been wrong about them only needing half an hour.

She sipped the tea again. That was fine for her. She needed a while to rest her voice. "At least we were planning on replacing the windows anyway," she noted.

"Amongst other things," said a dry voice from the entrance of the living room. She glanced over to see Hywel entering the room. "I've got my people cleaning up the rest of the house. We should have the glass cleaned away in the next half hour."

"Hopefully we won't need to rush training like this again," Emhyr said, "Not that flying can be rushed. Time and experience are the best things for learning to fly." Taylor nodded and sipped her tea quietly. It really was helping with the pain.

"I've moved the flying equipment back to storage for the moment. Keeping things tidy will help make a better impression," Hywel continued, "The builders are continuing their work. Are you sure you want them to keep working through the visit?"

Taylor nodded. "Trying to hide you would be difficult," she paused to take a sip of tea, "and I think trying might make things worse." She didn't need them thinking she was hiding stuff. That would just cause problems in the long term. Even if she was going to be hiding some of it. They all had; her dad, the dwarves, and her; agreed to claim that the dwarves all came from the one book. If the PRT decided to take the book that one was nearly empty, even if it did contain important information they could probably survive its loss. Losing the _Seventh Colonial_ and the rest of the books would be much more of a hindrance.

"I'll see that everything is tidied then," Hywel bowed and she waved him off. He slipped out of the room, leaving the two of them to their tea.

As they waited for the PRT to show itself Taylor let her mind wander. It was strange living with the Dwarves. They were rather helpful, but at the same time, they seemed so… clueless about certain things. Technology was basically a foreign concept to them, at least anything she would consider modern. They certainly seemed to know their way around construction and magic. Not that they used much magic.

Dwarves were, according to Loremaster Emhyr, weak in external magics. Spells and direct manifestations like what she had been practicing were very limited for Dwarves. Even the voice trick was nearing the limit for them. Their talents lay, instead, in physical augmentation and crafting. Augmenting tools, items, and weapons with magic runes carved into them after creation. While they hadn't brought out any enchanters they were only waiting on finishing the current round of housing before bringing them out.

A loud _thunk thunk thunk_ from the front of the house brought Taylor out of her introspection. She set the empty cup of tea down on the table. Her throat was feeling quite a bit better. She glanced out the window. Five minutes after the hour. "They're late," she commented.

"Close enough to the estimate to be fine I would say," Emhyr said.

"Hmm," Taylor shrugged and stood up, adjusting her skirt. Butterflies were swirling in her stomach despite it being far too small now. Not that that had stopped her from eating six trays of pastries at breakfast on the first day. She swallowed and strode out of the kitchen. "Send some snacks up. I'll be sitting at the table on the deck," She ordered as she left. The snacking would hopefully help calm her down.

Or just make her appear more nervous.

She sighed as she stepped out on the deck. "Can't win, can I?" She muttered, taking a seat at the one outdoor table on the second floor. She could hear voices coming closer. The PRT was already in the house. Joy.

As her dad entered the room the man who followed him made Taylor stop and stare. He was clad in a tight-fitting red spandex costume with red body armour over his chest and shoulders. A visor covered his eyes while his sandy blonde hair stuck out messily above everything. He was grinning as he sauntered into the room. Taylor recognized him as Assault, one of the Protectorate heroes.

By his elbow was a girl younger than her in a green dress with a green visor and chest plate. Vista of the Wards. She was probably the most popular of the wards and certainly the longest-serving of the current group.

They both came to a stop on spotting the table full of miniature people. Assault just looked at the table for a long moment. He turned to Danny. "So, that's your daughter?" He asked.

"That's Taylor," her dad confirmed.

Assault turned back to her. "Cute kid. The Officers didn't mention the others though," he observed. Taylor blushed.

"Taylor asked them to hide last time. We didn't see the point of bothering with the Protectorate. We didn't think they could have hidden from Armsmaster," Danny replied as he eased himself into the recliner.

"Yeah, probably not," Assault agreed, "We can ask our questions then?"

"Go ahead. I'm just going to be sitting here." He emphasized the point by up the footrest.

While this was going on Vista had been staring at her with ill-concealed interest. "Hi," Taylor waved as she spoke.

"Huh, quite a set of lungs," Assault said. "Hey, I'm Assault. The kid here is Vista." He gestured to the Ward with one hand.

"Hey!" Taylor winced as space bent unnaturally and Vista stepped across the room to stand by the table, leaning against it to get a closer look.

Taylor leaned back in her chair at the sudden closeness of the Ward. She wasn't the only one either as a Dwarf working on one of the roofs let out a shout of surprise and overbalanced. Vista winced as she spotted the Dwarf bounce off the plywood street.

"Sorry," the Ward apologized, "Is he okay?" Taylor looked over to where the Dwarf was picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off. A couple of his co-workers still on the roof were making mocking gestures. The dwarf grumbled back up at them and they all laughed.

"He's fine. Dwarves are tough," Taylor said, turning back to Vista with a smile. "Just be careful where you step. We've got a few down there as well." Vista immediately looked down.

"Shit." Taylor blinked at the curse as Vista shuffled back.

"Language," Assault chided with a grin as he took the chair that Danny normally when visiting the table. He glanced down at the floor as Vista blushed and pouted. He adjusted his feet. "These guys can build?"

"They'd be rather terrible Dwarves if they couldn't," Taylor said dryly, attempting to cover the nervousness she was feeling with some humour. The fact he chuckled told her it was probably working.

"Suppose so." His expression lost most of its humour, getting serious. "Anyway, as much as I'd like to just make this a visit we've got a few questions we need to go through first. Your dad says we can ask but are you up for it?" Assault asked.

Taylor nodded. "What did they do this time?" She asked. Her dad frowned and leaned forward in the chair. She was really tempted to ask him to leave. Emma had been like her sister and hearing what she had been doing would probably set off her dad's temper, which really wouldn't do anything good right now.

Not like he'd leave if she asked.

"They?" Vista repeated.

"To clarify," Assault started before she could reply, "We are here about the vandalization of your locker that was discovered earlier today. Now, I assume you've seen the news?"

"We have. Also got a call from the school," her dad interrupted, "They seemed to be trying to blame us for whatever was going on. Didn't get much in the way of specifics though."

"Huh, well don't worry too much about that," Assault said. He frowned and rubbed a hand against his chin. "Just taking a book by its cover you don't seem like the type to go and fill your locker with a garbage bag's worth of decomposing used hygiene products."

"What?" Taylor stared. She couldn't have heard that right. "Used- like tampons?" Behind Assault, her dad looked horrified.

The superhero looked depressed as he sighed. "Yeah, that's exactly what it was. Now, still willing to answer questions?" He asked.

She nodded frantically. This was… this was a hell of a lot worse than she had thought it would be. Was this even Emma's work?

Assault watched her for a moment before nodding. "Right, Vista you alright?" He asked the girl who was looking a bit green, more than normal anyway. It was clear that the exact details hadn't been shared with her before since she was looking a bit queasy.

"Fine," she replied while not looking like it. Honestly, she was looking worse than Taylor felt.

"Mhmm," Assault shook his head but didn't comment. He turned back to Taylor. "So, let's get the obvious out of the way. You said 'They'. Who are they? I take it you suspect someone?"

"I…" Taylor bit her lip nervously. Her wings buzzed with her mood. Assault stared at her, waiting quietly. "Some?" She finally offered, "It's just, this is really not the same thing they've done before…" Though there had been that incident with her mum's flute. That had been absolutely soiled. So maybe not as far off as she would have liked to think.

"Hmm," Assault pondered. "Is there someone at the school who bullies you?" She winced. Her dad looked surprised behind Assault. His expression was slowly shifting to angry, however.

"Several," she admitted. The deck door opened and Tomos the chef stepped out with a tray of pastries.

"Pardon the interruption. Your snack, Lady Hebert. Guests," he bowed to her as he placed the tray on the table.

"Thank you Tomos," she sighed. He smiled and quickly excused himself. She tore a danish in half and started nibbling on it.

"Your own chef? Your powers come with a few cool benefits," Assault chuckled. Meanwhile, Vista leaned forward to get a better look at her plate. She was looking less green.

"A few," Taylor deferred. She was happy that Tomos had remembered to not call her Your Grace.

"So, who are these usual suspects?" Assault asked, getting the conversation back on track.

Taylor delayed by nibbling on the other half of the danish. Eventually, that ran out. All the while the superhero's left eyebrow was slowly going up. She snickered at the ridiculously off-kilter look it left him with. He chuckled and dropped the look.

She sighed with a slight grin that faded quickly. "Well… There's three. They're at the center of a lot of things at school."

"Popular kids?" She nodded. "Yeah, I know the type. What did they normally do?"

"Destroy my homework. Shove me around… Make obnoxious comments until I began to cry…" The danish in her grip crumbled and she let it fall to the platter. She picked up the cloth beside it and wiped her hands off.

"Bit of a jump from that to bioterrorism," Assault mused.

"... I was thinking that too, but…" Taylor dropped the cloth back on the table.

"But?" Her dad asked. He dropped the footrest and sat up in the recliner.

Taylor winced. "About a year ago I took mum's flute to school for a presentation," She said, "They stole it right out of my locker. They must have picked the lock because it was still on the door when I went to get it. I found it a while later in the trash covered in shit." Vista looked disgusted.

"Taylor…" Her dad's anger seemed to vanish beneath a mask of the same sadness he had been fighting for years. He buried his face in his hands. Vista looked at him uncomfortably.

"They stole it again that same day," Taylor continued, "I have no idea where it went after that…" She looked up at the superheroes and paused at what she saw. Assault's face might as well have been chiselled from stone from the way his jaw was clenched.

"I see," he said, "You have names for them?" She nodded.

"And proof from the first half of this school year," she added, "I printed out all the emails and made notes when things happened. It's in my bedroom upstairs. In the closet."

"That would help prove a pattern if it is them. Their names?" Assault asked.

Taylor shot a worried look at her dad. His face was still buried in his hands. This was going to hurt him. She closed her eyes. "Madison Clements, Sophia Hess," she heard a sharp intake of breath from Vista, "and Emma Barnes."

"EMMA!" Taylor flinched at the roar of anger from her dad. She cautiously opened one eye to find both Vista and Assault staring at her father who looked like he wanted to break something, probably Emma, with his hands.

"You, uh, know this Emma?" Assault asked carefully. Her dad's gaze shifted from staring aimlessly at the wall to fixated on Assault, who to Taylor's surprise flinched. She glanced about. The streets of the town were suddenly empty. On one of the rooftops, a warhammer slowly slid off the side to the ground where it landed with a light clatter.

Danny and Assault looked at one another for a long moment before Taylor's dad deflated, his rage giving way as he slumped bonelessly back into the recliner. "Yes. Gods yes." Taylor flinched at the emotion in his voice and tried to snack on a pastry to distract herself. It didn't work.

Assault pulled himself together. "Can I ask how?" He asked.

Her dad was silent for a time, one hand covering his eyes while massaging his forehead. "I've been friends with her father since high school," he finally said. He sounded defeated in a way that she hadn't heard since her mother died.

"Dad…" Taylor tried to say something, but her words died. She sniffed and leaned back in chair, wrapping her arms about herself as the tears started falling. Emma had been like a sister for years, utterly inseparable. They had shared everything.

"When we both had daughters in the same year. It was… We'd have them over for a barbeque, they'd host one the next week. I… I don't understand. How… WHY?" Her dad lifted his hand and looked to Taylor. "You were like sisters."

Taylor nodded, sniffing and wiping the tears that were trying to form. "You remember that summer camp I went to the summer before high school?"

"Vaguely," her dad admitted. He had been a lot worse during that time.

"I called her from the camp and everything seemed fine until something happened on her end and the call dropped. When I came back she wanted nothing to do with me. Sophia was there and Emma slammed the door in my face. I figured she was just having a rough time and…" Taylor trailed off, nibbling her lip. "When school started up she started harassing me with Sophia and whoever was 'in' with them at the time. She used everything I'd shared with her. Everything." Her tears were falling in full force as she sobbed. She really wished she could get a hug from her dad.

"Well shit," Assault groaned. She looked up at him. He was leaning back in the chair staring at the ceiling. He looked down at her with an understanding grimace. "I've had people turn on me before, but never anyone that close… damned mess this is." He heaved a sigh and stood up. In her current state, he seemed to become a wall rising to the ceiling. "Now, you're sure about those three names? Madison Clements, Emma Barnes, and...?"

"Sophia Hess. She was the most physical of the three," Taylor said, sniffling still.

Assault nodded, looking between the two of them. "Beer?" He asked Danny, getting a confused look in return from Taylor's dad.

"What?"

"Where do you keep the beer? You look like you could use one right now," Assault said.

Her dad looked at the superhero for a moment before nodding and gesturing towards the kitchen. "Through the kitchen, there's a door into the garage. We've got an old fridge I keep them in."

"Back in a moment," Assault said with a nod to Vista who was looking uncomfortable. She nodded back to him and as he left stepped up to the table.

"Um… where did you put those notes you made?" She asked, "I should probably go and get them."

"My bedroom closet. The room is at the end on the right," Taylor said, "Look under the stack of old posters." It had been her half-assed attempt to keep them hidden.

Vista nodded. She turned to look at Danny. "Mr. Hebert, can I-"

"Go on," he waved. In a squiggle of distorted space, Vista took one step and was gone. Silence settled over the room. Even the quiet hammering of the Dwarves had stopped. Taylor glanced towards the door into the house and found Emhyr and Carwyn standing there looking worried. She gave them a hesitant smile. Carwyn took a step forward, only to be held up by Emhyr who shook his head.

She left them to the quiet argument that broke out between them and looked back to her dad. "I have to wonder," he croaked, "How much Alan knows."

"I have no idea," Taylor admitted. Her dad snorted.

"Why would you? I have no idea and I've known him for nearly my entire life," his voice cracked. "Gods if he knew. If he let her do this… why would she even… She was a nice girl." Taylor stayed silent as her dad repeated all the questions she had asked herself over the last couple of years. There were no answers. No good ones anyway.

He trailed off as Assault entered the room with a bottle of beer in one hand and a pair of coke cans in the other. "I hope you don't mind, but I grabbed a couple of drinks for Vista and myself," he said with an easy smile, handing the beer to her dad.

Danny took a long pull from the beer bottle, draining nearly a third of it in one go. "That's fine," he said once he set the bottle down. Instead of the chair by the town, Assault took a seat on the couch.

The superhero cracked open one of the cans and took a sip. He sighed. "I should probably ask you a few more questions," he said, "But I get the feeling I've opened enough cans of worms today for you."

"You could say that," Danny sighed and drank more of the beer.

Further comment on the subject was cut off as with another spatial warp Vista reentered the room. A hefty stack of papers and notebooks was in her arms. She looked furious. "I have the notebooks," she said, setting them down on the coffee table.

"Did you look?" Assault asked with a knowing look. The Ward nodded. "I see… Here, sit down." He held out the pop can and gestured to the sofa. Vista sat down with a huff and glared at the wall while drinking her coke loudly. Her anger was slowly fading.

"So, in a blatant change of topic, what're your powers Taylor?" Assault asked.

Taylor blinked and sniffed, wiping away the tears. "Um… I'm four inches tall and have an army of Dwarves?" She offered, earning a snort from Vista a chuckle from Assault.

"So no Fairy Dust? Can't fly with happy thoughts and a bit of magic?" He said jokingly.

"I've got plenty of Fairy Dust," Taylor grumbled. "It's annoying how much I make."

Assault blinked and Vista looked up from her drink. "Seriously? I was joking," he said.

Taylor shrugged and stood up. She walked over to the balcony closest to the chair. As she went she gathered mana. Fairy Dust was created by a Fairy from wasted mana whenever they cast a spell. Minimizing it meant improving your skill. Of course, it was also possible to do the exact opposite.

She threw a punch towards the center of the room and let the mana blast out in that direction in a directionless display of power. A plume of Fairy Dust shot out across the room and through the kitchen door, leaving a shimmering trail that slowly fell to the ground. Her dad sighed.

"Taylor," he complained. She blushed. Right, he'd have to vacuum up everything that was left behind.

"It's pretty," Vista said, watching intently.

"I'm still working on it, but I'll be able to fly soon as well," Taylor added.

"Now that, that's cool," Assault said with a big grin. "No effects on people?" He asked.

"I can use it for a few things, but most of it dissipates in a few minutes. The rest loses its usefulness in a couple of hours," Taylor admitted, "All that's left at that point is gold."

Assault paused with his coke halfway to his mouth. "Gold?" He repeated, "Like actual gold?" Vista just stared at the glittery floor.

Danny put down his nearly empty beer and stood up. "Yeah. Give me a second," he said, taking the chance to head into the kitchen. He came back a minute later with another bottle of beer and the vial of gold from before. "Catch," he tossed the vial to Assault who caught it easily.

The superhero held it up to the light. "Certainly looks like gold, doesn't it," he held it out for Vista to take a look.

"I had it tested. One hundred percent pure gold," Danny said as he sat down. He finished his first beer before popping the top on the second.

"Jesus Christ," Assault muttered.

"We were going to approach the PRT about whether we could sell it in a few days," her dad continued.

"We'd need to run tests to make sure it didn't have any unknown properties gold shouldn't have, but I don't see why not. It'd probably be best to use an intermediary for it though," Assault suggested as he accepted the vial back. He held it up. "You mind if I take this in for you? Save you the trip."

"Go ahead," Danny waved his hand. "We've got a few pounds of it." Assault nearly fumbled the vial.

"Pounds?" He repeated, looking at the vial.

"Turning into a Fairy is apparently quite the spectacle," Taylor deadpanned.

"I can imagine," Assault said, pocketing the vial. He finished his coke and set the can down on the coffee table. "Now, I've got a few things I need to talk to you about before we leave. Technical stuff I'm required to explain to a new parahuman's parents on our first visit. In private if you don't mind," he nodded to the kitchen. "We can leave the two girls here to chat while we talk about the boring technical stuff."

Taylor's dad looked at her and she nodded once. He sighed. "Yeah, sure," he said, picking himself up out of the chair.

Assault scooped up the stack of papers and notebooks. "I'll keep these with me," he said as he led the way to the kitchen.

Vista sipped her coke then hopped off the sofa and walked slowly over to the town. "So, I'm probably supposed to tell you about the Wards program right now," she sighed.

"Probably?" Taylor asked.

The younger girl shrugged and leaned forward. "Between you and me," she whispered, "After what you've gone through it's probably a bad idea as long as Shadow Stalker is on the team."

"They let bullies into the Wards?" Taylor frowned, picking up a pastry and taking a large bite out of it in frustration.

Vista snorted. "No. They forced her in after she got caught pinning criminals to the wall with crossbow bolts," she said with a grumble.

Taylor swallowed and stared. "Gee, sounds like a fun person. She'd probably get along with Sophia really well. Maybe they could go out and skin puppies together or something," she snarked acidicly. Vista winced.

"Yeah, they sound pretty similar," the Ward sighed. "Doubt she'll be around much longer though. It was the Wards or juvie and she had to stay on her best behaviour. I doubt she'll last much longer." The blonde girl shook her head. "Enough about people like them. What's it like, being a Fairy?"

Taylor leaned back at the gleam that seemed to spark in Vista's eyes as she asked that. The girl leaned forward eagerly. "Well, it's a bit weird at first," Taylor admitted, not altogether unhappy about the change in topic. "You get used to everything being the way it is, then all of a sudden you're four inches tall and can't even look over the edge of a teacup let alone lift it."

Their conversation continued for over thirty minutes, focusing mainly on what it was like to be a Fairy with Taylor fielding constant questions from the increasingly eager girl. It was almost a relief when Assault called from the kitchen, "Come on Vista, we need to head out."

"Ah, I'd better go," the blonde girl said with a sigh. She smiled at Taylor. "This was fun. Hopefully. we can talk again some time?"

"We'll see," Taylor said, shaking the finger that Vista held out to her. With a grin, the younger girl took a step and disappeared in that weird twist of space that she did. Taylor sighed and leaned back in her chair feeling utterly drained. "Mrgle," she mumbled as she rubbed her face tiredly.

"Are you alright milady?" Carwyn asked as he and Emhyr stepped out of the house.

"Tired. Exhausted really," she told him. Somehow even her wings felt exhausted.

"Hmm, from the conversation or the display of magic?" Emhyr asked.

"The conversation," Taylor replied, giving him a quizzical look. "Why?"

Emhyr stroked his beard. "Interesting. Truthfully I didn't expect a display of so much power so soon. Perhaps you are ready for more than we first thought. Not today mind you."

They looked up as Danny entered the room, beer in one hand and a troubled look on his face. He sat down by the town with a deep sigh. "How are you doing, Little Owl?" He asked.

She frowned up at him. "A bit tired, but fine. What about you? You look like you've been run over." His eyes looked a bit unfocused and he seemed unsteady sitting there. How many beers had he had already? She frowned. If Assault came back she was going to have words for him about getting her dad drunk in the middle of the day.

Even if he probably needed it.

"I feel a bit like it," he sighed, taking a sip of his beer. It was too full to have been the same one he left with. "God Taylor… I should have noticed… something. The fact that you hadn't gone over to her house in months."

"Dad," she tried to interrupt.

"That she didn't come here," He continued.

"Dad!"

"Hell, I should have noticed the effect it was having on your marks, your mood. I…" He buried his head into his palm.

"DAD!" He looked up at her shout. "This wasn't your fault… I don't know what caused this, but it wasn't you. Don't blame yourself."

"I'm your father. I'm supposed to do better than this," he replied softly. Silence fell. After an awkward minute, Carwyn stepped forward.

"Lord Hebert," he began, getting her dad's attention. "This is a complex issue. I'm a father myself. Seven sons and two daughters."

"Lot of kids," Danny remarked.

"Not so many for a Dwarven family," Carwyn shook his head. "They weren't all at the same time mind you. But, I've had to deal with situations like this. The two of you need to have a talk. A long one, about a lot more than just today. But right now isn't the moment. Taylor is exhausted and you are well into your cups."

Danny glanced down at the beer and chuckled grimly. "Five beers in isn't the best time to be making decisions," he admitted. Catching a raised eyebrow from Taylor he shook his head. "Didn't sign anything back there. Assault flat out told me that the current crop of Wards wasn't right to shove you into. Something about a troublemaker."

"Shadow Stalker. Vista said the same thing," Taylor added.

"Yeah… I think I'm going to finish this beer and watch some TV," He decided.

"I think I'm just going to go take a nap," Taylor nodded. They shared a look. Carwyn was right, there was a lot to talk about, but now wasn't the time for it. Maybe tomorrow.

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	3. Chapter 2

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A Worm Fanfic

Dreaming of Fairies

By: Grounders10

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Chapter Two

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The next week and a bit fell into a pattern. Self-defence training in the mornings with Carwyn followed by flight lessons in the afternoon with Emhyr. Her dad would head into work every day and come back by dinner. It was a stable pattern as they waited to hear from the PRT. Conversations with her dad were both easier, and harder now. He could hear her, but he seemed to be falling back into the rut from shortly after her mother died. They needed to have that conversation, but she just didn't know how to start it.

It didn't help that most of the time she was in no physical shape to have a long emotional conversation at the end of the day. Self-defence training was physically draining and left her sore. Following that up with flight training after lunch left her with little energy for being emotional.

There were probably better times to ruminate on the nature of her relationship with her father than in the middle of training, however.

"RIGHT!" The stick in Taylor's hands cracked loudly as she barely raised it to block. "Good," said her trainer. The General had decided to teach her personally after the visit by the PRT.

"LEFT!" She blocked the strike from the short General. The stick that was standing in the place of a longsword rang with the blow, vibrating loudly. She knew from personal experience that had she not been reinforcing it with her magic it would have exploded from the force of the blow.

The diminutive General spun the wooden axe in his hand and lashed out again shouting, "RIGHT LOW!" Her response was too slow and the wooden weapon swept her feet out from under her. She crashed to the rough wooden floor with a yelp.

She lay there for a moment, groaning at the throbbing in her sides, legs, and head. "Ow," she complained.

Carwyn rested the head of the wooden axe against the floor with a thump and leaned on the pommel. "Hrm… Better," he said with a nod.

"You keep saying that," Taylor said, sitting up and rubbing her legs. "It hasn't felt like it at all." Her calves were going to have bruises again that night.

"Of course it hasn't," The General chuckled. "Get up, I think we have enough time to go again."

"Alas, I'm afraid you are out of time today." Taylor looked up hopefully as Emhyr entered the practice hall.

"Emhyr, thank god. Save me from him!" She pleaded, getting a chuckle from both of them. She grinned a little despite the pain. She was only mostly joking. The Loremaster looked her over with a critical eye.

"Minor bruising, no broken bones. You're improving," he remarked.

"Don't start as well," she grumbled, "And he hasn't broken any bones before."

"Not yet," Emhyr corrected.

"Aye, that is a risk in the more advanced classes," Carwyn nodded wisely, "Go on and get cleaned up Your Grace." He waved her off, "Don't forget to hang up your sword before you go."

Taylor grumbled as she peeled herself off the floor and walked gingerly across the hall to the racks of wooden weapons. She hung the imitation longsword up and sighed. Her everything was hurting more. Wonderful.

"Tomos has lunch waiting for you after your shower, Your Grace," Emhyr said, "I will be along in a bit, after I've spoken with the General."

"Thank you Emhyr," She said with a smile, turning to Carwyn she added, "And thank you, General."

The old warrior waved her off. "Get going girl," he chuckled.

Taylor slipped out of the practice hall and into the main hallway of the barracks. She straightened the skirt she was wearing and glanced about as she pulled down on her top. The hallway was empty. She leaned against the door with a sigh. "Ooooow," she groaned quietly. She was getting tired of spending half the day as a mass of bruises. The good news was that Fairies healed fairly quickly. The downside of that meant that Carwyn knew he could be rough with her.

She stepped away from the door and headed down the hall, around the corner, and out the front door of the Barracks. The guard by the door bowed as she went past. The streets of the small town had hit their limit five days before. There simply wasn't any more room on the table and, rather understandably, her dad hadn't been eager to set up more tables to give them more room. As it was there were four hundred and fifteen dwarves stuffed into the tiny three street town that had sprung up.

She paused at the glassless window of a small shoe shop where two guards were waiting for their boots to be repaired. The main road had been dedicated to shops that catered to the needs of the guards and hunters, though some had arranged for shops in the small fort at the base of the table. No money was currently being exchanged due to the situation. They had limited supplies and limited means to acquire more. Everything was being distributed as needed. The only one this didn't apply to was her. As their Queen, she essentially had the authority to ask for anything and receive it immediately. Or as immediately as was possible. Not that she had used it for more than demanding more pastries.

She turned away from the shop and looked around the street. It might have appeared to be a town from above, but it was really just a heavily armed camp with nice housing for the soldiers. It was a wooden cut out of a town with plates of armour hung off it.

"I'm just being really introspective today, aren't I?" She mused with a shake of her head. She looked up the street to her house and frowned. She really wasn't looking forward to the long walk down the table. Of course. She spared a glance to her wings. There was a better option if she was willing to risk it.

Flying was fun even if she wasn't all too good at it. Being in the air under her own power was an incredible experience. "Oh what the hell," She grinned and pushed her magic into her wings as she had gotten used to doing over the last week. A soft golden glow flowed through the delicate silver tracery of her wings and she extended them fully. Fairy Dust scattered in their wake with that action.

She wasn't really supposed to, but… With a grin, she jumped. Fairies, like most Fae, naturally turned some of their magic into physical enhancement. Like when she had knocked her dad off his chair. A lot of her practice with Carwyn was simply learning to enhance herself deliberately with magic.

A brief puff of fairy dust left her foot as she kicked off the ground and soared up above the three-story houses. Dwarves looked up as she flexed her wings and shot forward, a faint trail of fairy dust following behind her. She back winged immediately as the table disappeared beneath her and the dollhouse loomed large before her. "Shit," she cursed as she came to a stop within a fairy inch of the third-floor window.

Somewhat sheepish she lowered herself back to the ground outside the front door gently and tried to pretend that she hadn't nearly imitated a fly smacking into a windshield. The exasperated looks she got from the guards suggest she hadn't been as successful as she liked. Joy.

With some dignity, and an incandescent blush, she headed inside and up the stairs with only a quick wave to Tomos working in the kitchen. She needed a shower. Now if only she could get a nice relaxing bath.

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"So what is this I hear about you nearly crashing through the third-floor windows?" Taylor groaned as Emhyr walked out onto the second-floor patio.

"I didn't feel like walking?" She said defensively as she nibbled on a danish.

He chuckled as he took the seat across from her. "I think we'll make a fairy out of you yet," he said. "You wouldn't believe the number of young fairies that I've heard give that exact defence to smashing some vase or window, or… well. The list of what young fairies haven't broken is certainly shorter than what they have."

She blushed and finished the danish. "I like flying," she defended.

"So do most fairies," the Loremaster chuckled. He nodded his thanks to Tomos as the chef set lunch down before him. "Thank you, Tomos."

"You are welcome Loremaster. Your Grace, anything else?" The chef asked her. She shook her head.

"I'm good, thank you," she smiled at the chef who scurried off.

Emhyr started cutting up the meal in front of him. "Tell me Your Grace, have you been reading the reports coming in from the scouts?" He asked.

Taylor shook her head. "I've been stuck in a loop of defence training, flight training, bed for the last week and a bit. How much time do you think I have?" She asked. The nice thing about that was that she had been too tired to miss having books to read.

"Apparently not as much as I thought," Emhyr replied before he bit down on the sliced meat he had been served. They ate in silence for a few minutes before the Loremaster set down his cutlery and reached for the napkin. "Ah, it is good to have cutlery again."

"There's a lot more in those books than I thought," she commented.

"Mhmm, I'll confess to some surprise myself. It is clear that they had more time than we expected," he noted, "Which is good for us now, but… this is getting away from my question earlier. I take it you aren't aware of how much ground the scouts have made?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, "I haven't a clue."

"They finished the search of the first floor three days ago," Emhyr said.

"Already?" Taylor stared, "I thought you said it was going to take weeks?"

"We thought it would, but I'm afraid our estimates were based on… assumptions," the Loremaster sighed. He speared the last slice of meat and chewed on it slowly. He swallowed then continued, "We assumed that the insect and pest infestation of this house would match up with what we were familiar with back in Wales. That was a mistake. The number of insects, rodents, and other pests is comparatively non-existent. Hunt-Captain Harvard has already cleared all of the rooms and returned maps that we have already matched to the blueprints of the house. While we haven't checked inside the walls the Hunt-Captain has declared that the first-floor open spaces are safe for habitation."

Taylor shook her head. "That's good news, but I didn't think you'd be able to clear it so quickly," she said, "The travel times alone-"

"Aren't all that much," interrupted Emhyr, "I know we haven't had the time to spend on covering the physiology of the Fae as I would like, but we Dwarves, especially our trained soldiers, can outpace a sprinting human on flat ground. Not for terribly long, but travel times were not as much of an issue as you seem to think."

"Oh…" Taylor sighed, "There's still a lot for me to learn?"

"Years worth I'm afraid," her teacher smiled. "He would have declared it clear days before, but he wished to triple-check everything. Which brings me to the point of the issue. The Hunt-Captain is requesting more men so he can establish camps around the floor to keep the pests that they've already cleared out from reinfesting the areas."

The Loremaster cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea. "Hywel is eager to get to work on them with your permission," he added.

Taylor considered it. "They've picked out places to build?" She asked.

"Several. They've been marked on the map upstairs for a couple of days now," Emhyr said. His raised eyebrow implying that she should have known that already. She felt her face grow hot from embarrassment.

"And they are?" She asked.

"The Hunt-Captain believes that the kitchen counter by the fridge, the corner of the office by the filing cabinet, and the area underneath the sofa are all prime candidates for camps," Emhyr listed.

Under the sofa? She glanced across the room at the distantly looming edifice that she had once sat on like a normal person. Well, there was certainly room under it. The office probably had the room for a small camp as well, but the kitchen counter? "How are you going to get the materials up to the counter?" She asked.

"That is a bit of an issue, I'll admit," he sighed, "Hywel has suggested ropes and an elevator, but the easiest method would have been to build a staircase into the wall."

"And dad doesn't want us to start putting holes in the walls or the foundations," Taylor observed.

"Exactly," Emhyr nodded, "Which is beginning to become a bigger issue altogether."

Her eyes narrowed. "How so?"

"Hrm…" Emhyr stroked his beard, "Where to start. Well, simply put in the times when we have had to cohabitate with humans before we have stayed out of their way by the expedient method of utilizing the walls for highways. We install stairs, pathways, and even elevators inside them."

"Dad is worried about you messing with the power cables or water pipes. Accidentally," she clarified.

"We are used to working around dangerous materials. Take the smithy," Emhyr gestured to the only structure in the town that utilized stone. Most of the building was wood, but the forge had been carved out of a large rock her dad had brought in from the garden and engraved with runes by Cadog that prevented the heat of the forge from bleeding into the table or surrounding homes.

"Point. But electricity isn't fire," she countered.

"No, but it is dangerous. We can learn to handle danger just fine, Your Grace," he leaned forward against the table, "Hywel has already asked for books on the subject and we have yet to receive them. If your father would give us the chance to learn we could prove that we can handle ourselves around this electricity,"

Taylor sighed. He had a point. "I can't approve the counter plan. At the moment," she said, "but, the sofa and office camps have my approval. Stick to the open areas." And if her dad didn't want them there he should have said so before.

"I'll pass your word along then. There is, however, another issue that you need to know about," Emhyr sighed.

"What else?" Taylor groaned.

"Cadog has brought it to my attention that there is a growing need for materials. Materials that your father cannot provide, regardless of how much income you bring in," Emhyr said, "We've been pulling from the stores in the _Seventh Colonial_ but if we continue we're going to run low." Taylor sighed and picked up one of the last pastries to nibble on.

"Why can't we buy them?" She asked.

"The materials are magical in nature. Plants and livestock that humans either don't know of or have no use for," he replied.

"Are you sure about that?" Taylor asked.

"Yes. Many of these materials only retain their useful properties when harvested correctly. Some are used for healing. Others are key ingredients in alloys or are types of leather that take enchantment well. These cannot be purchased from the human world. Food and most building materials are one thing, but most humans lack the magic required," Emhyr explained.

"And we have the livestock and seeds in the books. But that would require expanding, wouldn't it?" She observed. The table was completely out of room and she couldn't imagine her dad would be happy about them herding unicorns or worse down on the carpet.

"Yes."

"And it would need someplace other than carpet or a table."

"Yes."

Taylor chewed her lower lip as she thought. They would need those materials, especially when the inevitably brought more dwarves out of the books. Of course, to get those materials they would need to bring people out of the books. They didn't have farmers at the moment. "What would they need?" She asked.

"Many of the plants respond best to areas with poor lighting," Emhyr began.

"Like mushrooms?"

"Some of them are, in fact, mushrooms, yes. But there are other plants that burn easily or originally grew in places where the sun was often a luxury. Such as the arctic circles, or at the bottom of deep chasms," the Loremaster continued, "We know how to recreate those environments well enough to grow them, but we will need to dig chambers for them. The livestock are also normally herded in large artificial caverns."

"What do they eat? The livestock I mean," Taylor asked.

"Depends on the animal. Most are herbivores, however."

"Most," she deadpanned.

Emhyr shrugged. "Meat is less of an issue when you're one of the smallest creatures around," he noted.

Taylor nodded absently. "They would need large enclosures?" She needed an idea of how much room this was going to take.

"As an example," he began, "this table would be, if covered in grass, enough space for a herd of unicorns. Not the largest herds, but large enough." Taylor looked out onto the rickety town created from carved up two by fours and tongue depressors. It looked like a lot of room from where she was sitting, but compared to actual horses it was rather small. Then again, most horses weren't five inches tall at most. Privately Taylor cursed the different scales. It made it difficult to visualize things.

"The issue," Emhyr continued, "is that we cannot dig. With the prohibitions on digging into the foundations or making entrances into the walls, we do not have the proper space to do this."

"They eat grass?" Taylor asked.

"Yes."

"Just bog-standard grass you'd find in any front yard?" She asked again. Emhyr nodded. "When the money comes through we could buy a few terrariums."

"Terrarium?" Taylor blinked at Emhyr's questioning tone.

"You don't know what a terrarium is?" They couldn't be that new.

"I'm afraid not," he said.

"There days they're glass boxes with climate control used for keeping pets like snakes or insects usually. Ant farms are popular for some reason," she shuddered. She never could understand why people felt the need to keep insects as pets, even before they were big enough to eat her. "Put some grass down, and set up some irrigation. Could keep anything we need in them."

"And I take it glass is less expensive than it was before?" Emhyr asked, running a hand through his beard. His tone was thoughtful.

"Quite a bit I think."

"Hmm, something to consider then. Though, this home of yours may be too cramped for our purposes," he observed. Taylor grimaced as she looked around. He was right. If she considered that a single herd of animals would take up space equal to this town of only a few hundred dwarves…

Taylor stood up from her chair and walked along the deck, running one hand along the rough wood of the railing. Emhyr was right. This was what it took to house less than five hundred dwarves. There were potentially over a million more dwarves waiting to be released from the other books. They could fill the house floor to ceiling on both levels and still not fit all of them. Not with all the workshops, stores, offices, and farmland they would need. Terrariums could help, but everything took space.

The house was too small.

She leaned against the railing and looked out over the roofs of the town and the living room. "We're going to have to move," she said.

"Your Grace?" Emhyr asked.

"By the time we take the space we need, my dad isn't going to have much of a house left." The old Dwarf looked about the room.

"Not knowing how large the rest of the home is, I'm afraid I can't offer good advice on this, Your Grace," he said apologetically, "But, even I can tell that the issue is not urgent. Tomorrow or next year, those of us still in the books will still be there just as we have been for the last century and a half."

"True…" It didn't stop her from feeling a bit guilty. They hadn't even finished unloading a single book. "Either way, I need to talk to dad. We need more space." And it was time she stepped up and tried to fix their issues before she lost her dad a second time.

"I won't disagree with the truth." Emhyr stepped up beside her and looked over the railing and down the street. They stood there for several minutes before he hummed thoughtfully.

"Emhyr?" She looked down at him questioningly.

"It occurs to me," he began, "That perhaps our plans have not accounted for the technological leaps that have occurred and our own diminished capacity to achieve our own desires." He looked up at her. "Your father works for the Dockworker's Union, correct?"

"That's right," she confirmed.

"What sort of work do they do?" He asked.

For a moment she stared at him, wondering why he suddenly changed the topic. Then something snapped together in the back of her mind. "They used to do everything at the docks. Unload cargo, put up new warehouses, load goods onto trains and maintain the tracks in the area. Dad says that it used to be if you worked in the docks you worked for the Union," she said.

"Including the things involving this electricity?" He asked.

"That's right," she nodded, "You're suggesting we hire help." The Dwarves had struck her as fairly proud and she had to wonder how the other three leaders would take it.

"For a time at least," Emhyr allowed. "It strikes me that we have several issues, all of which can be solved with outside assistance. If we can secure funds."

The crimson-haired Fairy grimaced as she nodded. "It comes back to money again," she sighed.

"Things often do," the old Dwarf chuckled, "Assuming we can get the funds I believe we can solve several issues at once. Our lack of understanding of modern technology first and foremost. We need teachers if we are to interact with, and perhaps master ourselves, the many advancements of the last century. Secondly, while our people are learning these new techniques the Union can build what we cannot. I've seen you looking longingly at the lights when it gets dark."

Taylor shrugged. "The fairy lights are nice, but we only have a few," she shrugged.

"Yes, and Cadog would love to supply more, but the magical materials they require have several other more pressing uses. Substituting electricity for them would alleviate the supply issues we are going to be facing for the next several years," Emhyr said, continuing his explanation.

"And we can use terrariums to get a start," Taylor added, getting a nod of agreement from the Loremaster.

"How expensive are these terrariums?" He asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "A few hundred dollars at least? I can probably talk dad into picking up one at least. Would dirt from the garden be good enough for crops?"

"More than adequate, Your Grace," Emhyr bowed, "Of course, you will have to speak with your father to arrange any of this."

Taylor winced and wilted a bit. "Yeah… Like I don't have enough to talk to him about… Tell Cadog that we're working on it and let Gryff know that he is clear to set up under the sofa and in the office. He can bring out another hundred hunters. That should be enough to make up the difference."

"And Hywel?"

"Tell him to keep it in the footprint of the table for now," she ordered with a sigh. She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back against the railing. Directly across from her was the window of her room. It was nice, but she missed her actual room. With her bed and her pillow. That Miss Militia poster on the wall and the shelves of books she would read whenever the mood took her.

Sometimes it really sucked being four inches tall.

"I think I'm going to take the afternoon off today Emhyr," she said, "If I have to deal with my dad I'd rather get some sleep first." She pushed off the railing and stretched, something in her back popped and she sighed.

"As you wish, Your Grace. I shall let you know when your father arrives then?"

"Please," she said with a smile at the old dwarf as she headed for her current room. She was going to sleep as much as she could.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Danny arrived home at the usual time, announcing his presence with a loud, "I'm home, Taylor." Before being turned into a fairy Taylor would sometimes reply with her own 'welcome home' if she was downstairs. These days communicating outside of a single room was a trick in and of itself.

So when Taylor heard her dad arrive she stepped out of the house and onto the deck and leapt into the sky, her wings glowing a soft gold. It was the first time she deliberately flew over the side of the table. For a moment her stomach dropped as she looked down at the open-air beneath her. It only lasted a moment though as the fact she was flying under her own power set in and she grinned.

She pulled a loop in the middle of the room and let out a whoop of joy. She sped up and did a loop about the room before turning for the kitchen. Her dad was hanging his coat over a kitchen chair when she buzzed into the room. His head snapped up as she came to a halt over the table in a spray of fairy dust. "Welcome home dad," She said, waving to him.

"Taylor… You're flying," her dad said. He sounded surprised. It must have been the fact she was outside of the living room.

"And mostly stable," Taylor added as she floated down to the table. She stopped a foot from it as she looked down. It was the first time in eleven days she had seen the kitchen. The table was covered in unwashed plates. She slowly spun on the spot, taking in the entire kitchen. It was more than just the table. The counters were also stacked with dirty dishes and take out containers. She frowned and crossed her arms and looked up at her dad. "What is this?" She asked sharply. He grimaced and leaned on the chair before him.

"I haven't been feeling like doing the dishes," he said.

"Uhuh. We have a dishwasher you know," she reminded him. He was letting himself go again.

"It costs money to run that. I was going to do them later,"

"Money which won't matter when we sell the gold. Use the damned dishwasher," she snapped, flying up to hover a foot in front of his face. "Unless we can't sell the gold?" She asked.

"I haven't heard a thing since Assault and Vista were here," Danny said, pulling out a chair. The chair groaned as he sat down. "I've called twice since, but nothing."

"Do we need the PRT's approval to sell the gold?" Taylor asked.

"Not exactly," he admitted after a few moments of meeting her eyes, "It helps. The lawyer I talked to said that a lot of companies refuse to purchase parahuman by-products unless they've been thoroughly tested by the PRT. And the gold does count since you literally create it from nothing."

"So we could sell it?"

"With difficulty," He pointed out.

Taylor clicked her tongue as she floated there thinking. It seemed that they would have to wait for the money then. "Well, while we're waiting there are a few things that we might need to do," she told her dad.

"Such as?"

"We need more room. We've covered the table and while I've told Hywel to start building underneath it, there's the issue that we need farmland. Could you pick up a couple terrariums?" She asked.

Her dad's brow furrowed. "Possibly. How much space do you want?" He asked.

"At least as much as the tabletop twice over." Danny winced.

"I assume you'd need dirt as well for them?" He asked.

Taylor nodded. "I don't know how expensive they are, but anything would be enough to start growing what we need." And get Cadog to stop complaining to Emhyr.

"We don't have that much free money at the moment, but I'll see what I can do," he said, offering her a weak smile.

She smiled back. "Emhyr says that some dirt from the garden would be good enough."

He snorted. "Good luck getting it. There's two inches of snow on top of everything right now." She shrugged.

"The dwarves could probably bring it in themselves if they had a way outside," she suggested.

"Which would probably leave a line of dirt from the back door to wherever we put the terrarium," he pointed out. His tone left the impression that this was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

"Well getting out of the house would lighten the load on what we're doing inside," Taylor pointed out in return. "If you don't want them to use the doors, then what do you want them to do?" Her dad grimaced and looked down. "Dad?"

"Going outside the house could get them spotted," he said. She blinked, was he worried they would draw unwanted attention?

"They've been dealing with human beings for millennia dad. I think they can handle running around our backyard without exposing me," she said.

Her dad sat back in his chair. One hand toyed with his jacket. "There are plenty of flyers in the city. All it would take is one person looking down at the right time and-"

"Nothing. They're three inches tall dad," she said with pure exasperation, "I want them to get out there and start mapping things outside so that we don't fill up the house."

"And how are they supposed to do that? Dig out homes in the dirt? We live above an aquifer Taylor, not solid rock. There's a reason most places around here don't have basements," he said sharply.

"And yet we do," she countered. That was another place she and her dwarves had been forbidden to go.

"We're one of the only places around here with one, and it's one of the reasons our property value stays high," her dad countered, his voice rising in volume, "Taylor I want to keep you safe. I can't do that if you get found out by one of the gangs."

She stared at him with a frown. "I know," she said, "But now that I can fly I don't want to stay cooped up like some fairy tale princess waiting for her knight in shining armour to ride up and slay the dragon."

"You don't even know how to fight. If they're telling the truth then you are a Fairy. One of the Fae and that means there are other Fae out there and not all of them are nice," her dad's voice cracked, "I've already… Taylor I can't keep you safe out there…" Tears were forming in his eyes.

"And you don't want to lose me," she floated over and laid a hand on his cheek, careful to avoid the rivers of salt-water that were slowly running down his face. "I'm learning to fight. Carwyn is teaching me how to defend myself with a weapon and Emhyr has hinted that we're going to start on combat magic now that I've picked up the basics of flight."

"Good… that's good. I-" he licked his lips.

"You aren't going to lose me, not like you lost Mom," she said firmly. His emotions were going all over the place, but it was clear he felt terrified of the thought of losing her.

"If you hadn't turned into a fairy you would have been there," he said woodenly.

"There?" She blinked. Oh. The locker. "Dad, Emma isn't your fault."

"I should have known something was wrong. God… I'm your father. I'm supposed to protect you. Care for you. I spent years wallowing and it would have _killed_ you if you hadn't _read a book_." Taylor floated back an inch as the tears began to pour in rivets and her father sobbed. Each burst of sound was like a cannon going off beside her and she flinched back another couple of inches as his body heaved.

Taylor grimaced and snarled. That was what he was fixated on? Fixated to the point of letting himself waste away? She did not need this.

"I failed… I-" Something inside her snapped.

"STOP." He flinched as she poured a bit of extra magic into her voice. The burst of sound rocking him back in his chair with wide eyes as she floated in front of him, fairy dust fountaining off her as she glowed to keep his attention. "Do not do this again. You say you failed? Yes. You did. I've spent two years with a shell for a dad," she snapped, jabbing him forcefully in the nose. It flexed in what had to be a painful way and he flinched back. "That changed on New Years. For three days I had my dad back. Maybe not the way he had been, but I had someone who was more like him than I had seen in years."

"Taylor, I-"

"Shut. Up." She snapped, emphasizing each word with another jab to the nose, "Shut UP! So you failed! I FAILED AS WELL!" The windows rattled, "I wasn't there for you! Neither of us was there for the other. Well, this time I'm here for you! We are not doing this again! You do not get to wither away in a pity party while I try to figure out how to be Queen of the fucking Fairies!" She gasped for breath as she finished. The rage she was feeling had dwindled a bit, but it still swirled through her.

"Taylor…" Her dad trailed off.

"We are not, doing this again," she repeated more softly, "I just want my dad."

Tears running down his face he nodded. "I know… You deserve better."

"Well, I have you. So you better shape up. I'm a Queen now, and that means I have higher standards… Or, I imagine I'm supposed to," she shrugged, "We haven't really covered much about what a queen is supposed to like, so I'm just guessing."

Danny chuckled wetly and raised a hand to her. He poked her in the side with a finger, getting a slightly annoyed 'hey' from her. "My daughter, the last Queen of the Fairies. Your mother would be so proud," he chuckled.

She smiled back and grabbed his finger in a hug. "I know. I wish she was here." He nodded and for a few moments, everything was quiet.

Danny broke the silence. "I'll… do better. I promise," he said. She hugged his finger again. "You know I stopped by Alan's house."

"What?" She looked up from the hug. "Why?" She zipped back, then started circling him. She tugged at his collar looking for bruises underneath his shirt. "Please tell me you didn't pick a fight."

Her dad pulled away and waved a hand. The winds from it barely buffeted her flight as she continued to zip around him with frantic worry. "I didn't even go up to the door. I saw them in the wind," he said.

"Who? Emma?" She asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "Alan and Zoe. They were in the living room on the couch. They had left the curtains open. It was the day after the PRT came to visit and… They both looked as terrible as I felt. I sat in the truck watching them for an hour. There was a lot of shouting going on from what I could see." He sighed, "I just drove away. I don't know what Alan knew, but I get the feeling he failed Emma worse than I failed you… I just… don't understand how."

He shook his head with disbelief. "Well," Taylor said with a sly smile, "I guess this means you don't get the worst father of the year award then?"

He chuckled. "Maybe I can aim for the best next year?"

"We'll see," she said, settling in front of him. She was starting to feel the drain of flying. "I'm getting a bit tired from all the hovering, so I think I'm going to head back to the dollhouse. Before I have to land and risk getting jumped by whatever has taken to calling this mess home." She grimaced at the piles of dirty dishes and takeout containers.

Her dad winced. "I… Think I need to do the dishes before dinner," he admitted. She kissed him on a dry spot on his right cheek.

"You do that dad. I'm going to go rest before I fall out of the sky. Cheers," She zipped off towards the living room. She glanced back and smiled as she saw him grinning weakly after her. She did a small loop-de-loop above the town before landing on the balcony. Carwyn was waiting for her as she set down and let her magic fade. The golden glow left her wings and left her with an ache in her shoulder blades where the wings met the rest of her body.

"Well Your Grace? I hope the shouting helped because that was rather loud," he said with a worried look.

She smiled to set his fears to rest. "A bit I think," she said, turning to look back towards the kitchen. Her dad was visible for a second carrying a stack of Chinese take-out boxes towards the garage. "Now, I'm going to have a shower. If anyone asks, make sure they know I want a quiet evening. Unless it's my dad," she told the General as she walked to the door.

"I'll send a runner around. Have a good night, Your Grace," he said, bowing as she passed.

It was time for a shower, bath, and finding a good spot to watch the TV from. Perhaps on the roof of the dollhouse? By the steeple maybe?

-0-0-0-0-0-

The floor of the training hall tasted like wood and glue. Not surprising, since that was what it had been assembled from. To Taylor, it had become a familiar flavour as she peeled herself off the ground for the… she had forgotten how many times she had hit the floor that day. That was probably because of the multiple instances of concussive force to the skull she had been on the receiving end of.

It went without saying that the week since her angry lecture of her own father had been going swimmingly. Her dad had stopped moping, or at least moping as much. It was clear that while she had managed to break the downward spiral he had gotten it he was still worse than he had been at the beginning of the month. Still, it was an improvement over where he had been before she turned into a fairy. There was, unfortunately, still no news from PRT though, the TV News had reported that charges had been laid against three students from Winslow High School.

Hopefully. that would be the end of that mess.

Magic training had shifted from flight, except for the progressively longer flights around the house she was taking during the evenings, and to more combative forms. While Emhyr was no wizard the first book, _How to be a Queen_, had proven to be a good resource. There was an entire section of the book dedicated to explaining magic theory and it had included a small library's worth of books. They had left most of the books in storage. They just didn't have the room for a Royal library's worth of heavy tomes.

As for combat training, Taylor had graduated from forms and basic handling to actual sparring. "Surprisingly quickly," had been Carwyn's comment at the time. Sparring was a lot more painful than training had been up until that point.

"Going to get up?" Carwyn asked from his seat at the end of the hall from where he supervised the training. "Or are you done for today?"

Taylor shook her head to scatter the errant thoughts. "I'm good," she said. She retrieved the wooden longsword as she climbed back to her feet and faced her sparring partner. A young dwarven guard. Every day it was a different guard that Carwyn pulled for the duty, so she never fought the same opponent twice. Or at least, not yet. She would have to run out of people eventually… Oh, who was she kidding. That would take years.

"Hmm," Carwyn tapped his chin watching her. She raised her weapon into the ready position she had been taught. "One last time I think," the General decided, "I don't want Emhyr complaining you were too concussed to study magic this afternoon."

"I think it might be too late for that," the guard, observed as he raised his wooden axe.

Carwyn snorted. "She's a Fairy. She'll be right as rain in an hour or so. Begin," he declared with the same suddenness that she had learned he preferred.

The dwarf across from her leaped forward, his body actually leaving the ground as he covered the length of the hall in a single bound. Taylor sidestepped the telegraphed blow and blocked the swift follow-up strike with her blade, and the next strike, and the next. She shuffled back across the hall, giving ground under the relentless assault of the experienced dwarf.

As she sidestepped another overhanded blow she stepped forward to deliver her own strike towards his body. In a move, she couldn't track the guard sidestepped her strike in turn and brought his axe about. He caught her blade between the axehead and the shaft and ripped it from her hands before slamming the butt of his weapon into her stomach. She rolled across the floor until she bounced off the wall.

"Oooow," she groaned as she lay there.

"You overextended," Carwyn commented conversationally, "Again."

"I noticed," she said as she sat up. She massaged her stomach gently. That had hurt a lot.

"Well, we're done here," Carwyn said, "Once I've compared notes I'll join you for lunch. Head up to the house and get cleaned up before I have Emhyr in here yelling at me for taking too much time. Again."

Taylor stood up and dusted herself off. Her everything was hurting, but experience had shown that bruises and soreness disappeared in only a couple of hours at most. "I'll see you there, then," she acknowledged before walking stiffly out of the training hall.

Rather than walk, she took to the air the moment she was outside of the barracks. She zipped across the town and landed smoothly on the balcony on her house. She nodded to the guards by the door. They bowed in return.

First a shower, then lunch.

-0-0-0-0-0-

News arrived with the bang of the front door flying open the next afternoon. "TAYLOR!" Her dad's voice echoed through the house from the kitchen.

Taylor was standing on the edge of the tabletop practicing her magic with Emhyr. Floating an inch in front of her, and hanging out in the open air, was a glittering orb of fairy dust that was shining brightly enough to cast shadows on the walls of the living room. As she looked up from the spell one side bulged.

"Taylor!" Emhyr said sharply. With an 'eep' she pulled her attention back to the spell. It was too late to salvage it, so she shot it out over the carpet. A moment later it went off with a loud _crack-bang_ and a flash of golden light. A thin layer of fairy dust rained down upon half the room.

"Fuck," Taylor sighed, her hands and shoulders dropping. Her dad was going to be annoyed that she covered the room in gold. Again.

"Focus, Taylor. Do not let yourself be distracted," Emhyr reprimanded with a shake of his head.

"I know. At least it didn't go off on top of us again," Taylor shrugged. That had been a pain to clean up. Emhyr could only nod at that. "I'm going to go find out what dad wants," she told her teacher.

"As you wish, Your Grace. I will get a few teams down there to recover as much as we can before the charge is lost," he said, gesturing to the field of gold.

"Thank you," she grinned. Her wings lit up as she jumped forward, and straight off the table. She traced a golden arc across the room to the kitchen. As she entered her eyes scanned the room again. The dishes had been cleaned up the same evening she and her dad had had their discussion. It was nice to see that he still hadn't backslid. Sure the sink was full of dirty dishes from that morning, but he normally did them in the evening anyway.

Danny was setting a manilla envelope down on the table as she came to a stop a foot from him. "Dad!" She called, waving. He smiled.

"The PRT called today," he said with his own smile.

Her smile became a grin. "Really? Did they say yes?" She demanded, buzzing closer, "Please tell me they said yes."

Her dad leaned back as she flew within an inch of his face and chuckled. "They said yes," he confirmed.

"YES!" She pumped her fist then hugged him on the cheek again. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" She zipped away and did two laps of the room before coming to a stop in front of him. "This is going to solve so many problems," she said.

"It gets better," her dad continued, holding up the manilla envelope. "In here is a contract requesting that we provide fifty percent of all gold we bring to market to the PRT for the market price plus five percent." She stared.

"Plus five percent?" She repeated.

Her dad grinned and patter her gently on the head. "I tried to talk them into plus seven, but Director Piggot wasn't having any of it. So, just five percent. They did say that they would happily take the rest as well for market plus three if we decide to. Apparently they're having a hard time sourcing sufficient gold for their tinkers."

She stared for a moment longer before drifting gently down to the table. Her knees gave out as she touched the tabletop. "Fifty-percent? Just outright fifty of however much we decide to produce?" She asked.

"Well, fifty-percent below a threshold that is frankly ludicrous. I don't think we have much to worry about there," he added, "I've already had our lawyer go over it."

"Already?" That was fast.

"He was quite eager to once I mentioned it was about the sale of the gold I had mentioned before," he said, "I am going to go and pack up what we have and take it in before word can start spreading."

"Wait, spread? How?" She asked, shaking off her surprise.

Her dad sighed. "I know the PRT. They leak far more than an organization like that should, and with gold at stake? They'll be even more likely to bleed the secret than before," he noted, "We're better off getting this over and done with today. I've already alerted Assault. I'll give him a call before I head out with it. One of the heroes will be waiting when I get there."

Taylor nodded. "Did we ever measure how much we have?" She asked. He shook his head.

"I never got around to it. They'll measure it when they receive it and transfer the funds directly to an account for you once the details are finalized," he said, "Now, I'd like to get going before the gangs have time to line the roads for an ambush."

"Maybe you should take some of the guards with you?" Taylor suggested, taking flight again. "If something happens I'd rather you have help."

"How much can a bunch of three-inch dwarves do if the E88 takes a shot at me, Taylor?" Her dad asked. "I'll be fine going alone."

"They can do a lot. Hell, I flipped you out of your chair on the first day," she pointed out, flying up to his face. "I'll get Carwyn to put a team together. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

Her dad met her hard gaze for a minute before sighing. "Okay. I'll go and get the gold ready, you go and get your guards ready. They can ride on the pail," he said.

She beamed. "Okay," she chirped before buzzing out of the room with a trail of glittering gold. She flew straight to the dollhouse and landed lightly on the balcony. Emhyr was waiting as she landed.

"Everything good, Your Grace?" He asked as she marched past him and up the stairs. He hurried along behind her.

"Everything is fine. Better really," she said as they reached the planning room Carwyn was still using. "General~" She greeted him with a grin that caused him to raise an eyebrow before turning his gaze to Emhyr.

"Should I be worried?" He asked Emhyr.

"I would ask the same question if I had anyone to ask it to," the Loremaster replied calmly. She pouted at them both. She wasn't that overly cheerful.

"Dad came back. The PRT wants to buy as much gold as we have at the moment," she said, "Dad is packing it up and he's worried that a gang might get wind of this. So I'd like you to get a group together to go with him."

"And protect the gold?" Carwyn asked. She shook her head.

"No. Protect my dad. We can get more gold if we have to. Or get our gold back," she told him.

Carwyn nodded. "It would be a good chance to get a glimpse of the city. We've been entirely cooped up the last few weeks," he noted. "If we were building in a garden or field we would have already covered a hundred times the area we have so far."

Taylor grimaced. "We should probably do something about that later, but for now, a team please?" She asked him politely.

The General nodded and set his map tools down. "I'll see to it immediately, Your Grace," he said.

"I'll let dad know," she said, spinning on her heel and slipping around Emhyr before heading back down the stairs.

As she left the room Emhyr turned to Carwyn. "Well, this should prove quite informative. There is still far too much we don't know about what has changed since we left," he said.

"Aye. I'll ask the guards I send to be extra vigilant," Carwyn said.

"And while you organize that, perhaps this evening is the time for our first true planning meeting," Emhyr suggested as they descended the stairs together. "We have been lax for too long I would say."

"We both know that the young Queen needed time to adjust. How are the magic lessons going?" The General asked.

"Well enough. Her progress is slower than it could have been with another fairy as a teacher, but she has made astounding progress nonetheless," Emhyr said.

"Much the same as her sword training. She has been making exceptional progress," Carwyn grimaced, "It is still too soon for her to get involved in the outside world, however."

"That choice is not ours to make," Emhyr chided, "We may only decide how to adapt to her actions and make plans to safeguard her." The General sighed and nodded.

"I know. Gather the others. I believe a formal meeting over dinner would be the best time to discuss our options," he suggested as they reached the first floor. The two of them stopped and turned to each other.

"I'll alert Tomos to prepare something for four dwarves and a particularly hungry fairy," Emhyr chuckled. "She looks like a grown fairy, but eats like a child."

Carwyn chuckled, "I will see you at dinner then, old friend." He patted Emhyr on the shoulder then headed out the door, leaving the old Loremaster with his thoughts.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Dinner that night was a much fancier affair than Taylor had grown used to. Rather than a quiet meal on the balcony, they were making actual use of the dining room for once. The table had been covered in a red tablecloth and plates of delicate china had been brought out. The cutlery was a silvery-white metal that she couldn't recognize.

The meal was delicious. As the last of the plates were cleared away Emhyr tapped his wine glass with a spoon. The sharp ringing brought an end to the conversation. Taylor turned from her conversation with Hywel about how the installation of the terrarium was going in the undercity to face the old Loremaster.

"Your Grace," he began, addressing her, "I must ask your forgiveness. Since our arrival, we have been kept so busy that we have not been as organized as we should have been. Tonight, with the news that the first batch of gold is being sold and with some of our number travelling into the world beyond, even if only for a short time, it is time that we sat down and properly discussed our plans for the future. With your blessing, Your Grace." He bowed deeply to her. The other three rose from their seats and echoed the older dwarf.

She looked about the table at four bowing dwarves. "Please sit down," she ordered them. The four resumed their seating with the screech of sliding chairs. She looked over the four dwarves. They were right. They had talked briefly here and there about ideas of what to do, but nothing had ever been finalized, and it had never been the full five of them. In fact, it hadn't even been four of them before.

She rested her hands on the table. "Okay, so what do we need to start with?" She asked.

"With your permission, Your Grace, I'd like to start this off," Hywel said. She glanced around and noted the nods from the rest.

"Go ahead," she told him. The youngest of the four dwarves took a sip from the glass of red wine he had been served, a marked difference from the harder drinks the other three had requested.

"Our single biggest issue, is the fact we know nothing," he said bluntly. "It has been one hundred and forty plus years we last were in touch with the Fae Courts. That is plenty of time for the fallout of the Fairy Court's annihilation to shake out into something resembling a new normal. A normal that our Queen's mere existence is about to endanger."

"Endanger? Why?" Taylor frowned. She didn't really want to be a Queen, but if she had to be one she wasn't exactly raring to go out and conquer the city or something.

"He's right," Carwyn said, nodding firmly. "The European Fae Courts were known as Fairy Courts for a reason. No one possessed the might to challenge them. Assuming whatever wiped out the Fairies didn't switch targets afterwards that means most species of Fae have had between one and five generations without Fairies. They're used to being their own masters now. The existence of a fairy? My apologies, Your Grace, but two Fae Courts cannot coexist in the same space without one becoming subordinate to the other."

"So what happens when two run into each other?" Taylor asked.

"That would depend on the courts involved," Emhyr said, "While the general rule of thumb for two courts occupying the same area is that one must bow to the other, there is always the possibility of simply leaving the area."

She grimaced. The thought of leaving her home was not something she wanted to contemplate. Though…

"That is, of course, assuming we are in the territory of a Fae Court," Hywel pointed out, "That's the issue. We don't know if this territory is claimed by another court or if we're in unclaimed land. It has been over a century with the Fairy Courts to enforce peace in the vassal courts. Nothing we knew about the political landscape is relevant anymore."

"Then it is time that we rectified our lack of knowledge," Carwyn said. The General leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands. "We will need to send scouts out into the neighbourhood and then the rest of the city. We dwarves can cover a lot of ground in a day, but we'll need a lot more to make any meaningful progress."

"Which means we're going to need more housing. Again," Hywel sighed. The youngest dwarf ran a hand through his red beard. "I can't say I advise that unless we get some infrastructure in place. The field equipment is good, but we don't have that much of it."

"There would be more in another book," Emhyr said, "But breaking open a new book for toilets and sinks is perhaps not the greatest plan."

"Do they have to run everywhere?" Taylor asked, drawing attention back to her. She fidgeted under the gaze of her four advisors. "The scouts, do they have to run? Isn't there some form of transportation you could use?"

"Possibly," the Loremaster said, tapping the tabletop as he thought. "I remember… Hywel, did the _Seventh_ have Gryphons or am I misremembering?" The administrator leaned back in his chair at the question with a frown.

"I… I can't remember," he admitted, "But I'm sure we could find some in one of the books if we really need them."

"We do," Carwyn cut in. The General sighed. "This new age is very fond of vertical movement. Up and down, up and down, over and over again. The tables are taller, the houses are bigger, and if the TV is to be believed their towers are taller than any castle ever was. The Hunt-Captain Harvard has been complaining about the lack of tools his men have for maneuvering when exploring. We can install all the elevators and stairs we want, but that won't help outside of town."

Taylor nodded. The dwarves could move quickly. They could jump a foot into the air when really trying and sprint faster than a grown human. The issue came from the fact that not much was within a foot of the floor anymore. "Then we'll need to see if any Gryphons are available. We'll pick up a couple more terrariums for Hywel. We can use them as stables for them," she decided.

"That will require us to dig out their riders as well," Carwyn noted, "They will also allow us to assign a direct escort to you as well, Your Grace."

"Do I need one?" She asked. She had been flying about the house perfectly fine without one.

"You are our Queen. You warrant a guard detail. Until now we have had no one who could keep up with you when you went flying. If we can bring out the Gryphon Riders then we will have no issue following your lead," the General said.

Taylor grimaced, then sighed. They had a point. She was still having issues with the most basic combat spell a Fairy could learn and she hadn't lasted more than ten seconds against any of the guards she sparred with. She needed the protection a guard detail afforded if she wanted to leave the house.

"Go for it. It'll be nice to have someone to go flying with at least," she sighed. Emhyr chuckled and shook his head with a smile.

Cadog knocked his metal flagon against the table. "Bringing our conversation back a bit," he said once their attention shifted back to him. "I would like to suggest a few additional courses of action."

"What do you have in mind, Cadog?" Emhyr asked.

The smith took a drink from his flagon before continuing. "So, we're talking about what we can do with the materials in the book. We need to bring out more enchanters."

"You were complaining about a lack of materials yesterday," Hywel said throwing up a hand, "Can we even support more enchanters at this time?"

"Enchanting does not always require specialty materials," he paused to burp loudly. "Excuse me Your Grace," he said with an embarrassed look.

"It's fine Cadog," she waved him off.

He nodded, still looking embarrassed. "As you say. This town is relying on field equipment. We need to install proper dwarven infrastructure. Water, lighting, heat. Well, the heat is taken care of by the Lord Hebert's in house heating system, but the other two are needed. All of those things require more enchanters."

"After my men finish building them. We don't have the metals yet," Hywel protested, "And I can't exactly start putting pipes through the carpet. Not to mention I have nowhere to source water from."

"We are on an aquifer around here," Taylor noted.

"Which would require me to pip water either through the walls or the floors. Neither of which I have been granted leave to do," Hywel said.

"It strikes me," Emhyr broke in, "that many of our issues stem from us, essentially, renting space." Taylor sagged against the back of her chair as the other three dwarves voiced agreement.

"I can probably convince dad to let you drill a few holes, but…" she trailed off.

"But in the long term, this may be an untenable location," Emhyr gently said.

"We already agreed on that, Emhyr," she reminded him.

"Indeed."

"And you said I might have been too hasty," she added.

"True." He nodded.

"Has that changed?" She asked.

Emhyr leaned his head against his hand for a quiet minute as the other four at the table watched. "Your father has been more helpful since your discussion. However, I have had the feeling that he wishes everything to return to how it was and is resistant to anything that might challenge that possibility." He tapped the table with his finger, drumming a beat as he continued. "You can more than likely persuade your father to allow us to expand, but the effort might be better spent convincing him to let us establish a proper court somewhere where our needs will not conflict with his."

"I have to agree with Emhyr, Your Grace," Hywel said, turning to look down the table to her. "Your father is quite helpful in most things. The food he has provided is far and away more than we could have hoped for and he has been quite willing to answer a number of my questions about the city when I have asked, but his reluctance to allow my people to do their jobs is… An unnecessary issue." Taylor closed her eyes and nodded. As much as it hurt to say it, her dad was beginning to be an issue. She didn't want to keep living in a small dollhouse, though with some renovations it would be a perfectly fine place to stay when visiting her dad.

She groaned. This was going to be a pain to deal with. "Well… That relies on convincing my father to let us, because I am not alienating him just because all of you want a bigger place to build," she looked around the table with a firm glare. She was just starting to get him back, she wasn't going to drive him away again on the whims of a bunch of dwarves she had known for just over two weeks.

"It would also require us to actually find a place to go," Carwyn added, "And then secure it. Again, all things we need additional scouting for. We are talking about what-ifs. While we should keep these in mind, let us focus on what we can do at this moment. We need additional men now. We need the riders. We need space, water, and to get our enchanting operations started. There is no one solution to all of these problems."

"There may be ways to mitigate them, however," Cadog said, looking across the table to Emhyr who nodded. "We have money coming in. We need housing. We need water. We need better transportation for the scouts. I would like to suggest that we look to the humans and their technology for our answers."

Taylor eyed the smith before shifting her gaze to Emhyr. The Loremaster must have spoken with him at some point since their discussion.

"In what way?" Carwyn asked, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. Across from him, Hywel had turned fully to Cadog.

"I'm curious as well, so please, spit it out," the red-haired dwarf suggested.

Cadog finished his drink and leaned back in his chair. "To start with, labour. Our biggest issue is building. My enchanters can work with pre-constructed materials for all but the most delicate artifacts. Hiring humans to create, en masse, the housing and other materials we need is entirely possible with today's technology. Lord Hebert was more than positive of that when I enquired with him two days ago."

"I'm going to guess he suggested using the DWU as well?" Taylor asked.

Cadog nodded. "He asked me to consider sending some work their way. Tell me, Your Grace, are his people as good as he claims?" He asked.

"I'm not sure. Dad has kept me out of things for a while, but I've never heard anything bad about them from other sources. If nothing else they're likely to keep quiet if we're providing jobs," Taylor told him, "Though, they'll probably be the best source of skilled and available labour we can get. A bit on the expensive side though."

"Cost is not as much of an issue for us as it might be with others," Emhyr noted, "We still need a place to put these homes. Unless we have already forgotten the previous conversation already, Cadog?"

The smith shook his head. "No, no, not at all. Your Grace, how likely would your father be to approve a single passage being cut through the wall dividing this room from your backyard?" He asked Taylor.

"If it's just the one… Probably a yes if we can give a good reason?" She hesitantly offered.

Cadog nodded. He turned back to the rest of the table. "Then we build the passage, design, or hire someone else to design, the homes and other facilities we need, which will be installed on the outside of the house. From there we bring in the people we need and work on identifying a place to properly establish the court," he explained, "We're going to want to leave a garrison here to guard your father anyway, Your Grace, so the facilities won't be a waste of funds once we move on."

"Yes. I like that," Carwyn said. He leaned forward. "I would advise having them built as a fortress if we intend to leave it as a garrison afterwards."

"It will also pair well with my other suggestion," Cadog said.

"Other suggestion?" Hywel asked, "I can't say I'm terribly fond of your first one. It cuts my people out of their duties."

"It'll let us put electricity in, however," Emhyr noted, "None of our people possess the knowledge to wire a building safely. Electric lights would cut down on the enchantment material requirements and we may be able to integrate other human technologies."

"Precisely," Cadog agreed, "When I spoke with Lord Hebert he mentioned that humans have created toy scale versions of their vehicles that can be remotely controlled. These cars and planes that we have seen on the TV over the last few weeks have smaller toy versions. We could see about having some made to our specifications and then my people could enchant them to increase their capabilities."

Dwarves in RC cars? Taylor tilted her head to the side at that mental image. The image of Emhyr in a red plastic Cadillac with his hair and beard streaming behind him in the wind was oddly amusing. On the other hand dwarves with planes could be quite useful. Or even helicopters. There was quite a bit of potential there, actually, and it would serve to deal with the main difficulty that came with scouting the city: the sheer size disparity.

"That could work," she said, thinking hard. The plan relied on getting her dad to play ball in a way he hadn't so far, though the opportunity to get jobs for the Union would probably be a good incentive for him. Maybe she could use that to get him to let her move out later? Maybe…

"I'll get to work on convincing my dad about the garrison," she said, coming to a decision, "Cadog, unless anyone has a problem, we'll go with your suggestions. Anyone?" She glanced around the table.

"I think we're all on board, Your Grace," Hywel sighed, "Does anyone have any other things they'd like to discuss tonight?" Everyone looked around.

"It seems we're out of major topics for now," Emhyr observed, earning nods. "Then let us move on. Hywel, how is the terrarium turning out?"

"Well as I was telling Her Grace earlier..." Hywel launched into a detailed explanation of their current efforts to convert the terrarium for farming.

Taylor leaned back in her chair and took a sip of the wine that had been provided. She swished the liquid back and forth as she idly toyed with the glass. "This," she whispered to herself, "is going to be a long night." Her mind wandered away across the city as she wondered how things were going for her dad.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Vista was bored. She was bored as she lay on the couch of the PRT East-North East's Ward's common room and stared at the ceiling, her phone lying forgotten next to her. She was dressed in her full costume with only the visor missing. It was lying on the coffee table in arms reach.

"Ugh, why is this taking forever?" Vista barely shifted as the boy sitting in the recliner across the room complained loudly. Again. He pulled at the collar of the clock covered white armoured costumed he was wearing. "You'd think with Sophia getting canned we'd be done with shit like this."

Vista rolled her eyes and flicked her hand, bending space in the same instant so that palm smacked him across the back of the head from across the room.

"Ow, damn it Vista," he complained as he rubbed his head, "I know you weren't upset when she got the axe finally, so why are you hitting me?"

"Because you won't stop complaining, perhaps, Clock?" The third person in the room offered from the kitchen.

Clockblocker, known out of costume as Dennis, grumbled. "We've been here for three hours. They cancelled our patrols tonight for whatever this is," he said, crossing his arms with a huff. "The least they could do is tell us what we're expected to do."

The other boy snorted and stepped around the couch into Vista's line of vision. "That's not happening," Gallant, known out of costume as Dean, said. He took a seat in the other recliner. "Not after Shadow Stalker."

Dennis scoffed. "Shadow stalker. I can't believe Piggy expected us to have any clue what that psycho was going. We didn't even go to the same school. How were we supposed to know she was practicing her Jack Slash impression on school girls?"

In the wake of Shadow Stalker's arrest and immediate transport to juvie there had been a mixture of relief and horror for the Wards. Relief because they no longer had to deal with Sophia's insults, passive-aggressive snark, or her inability to work with anyone not as twisted as she was. Their horror had come from what it had finally taken to get her pulled from the team. Texts pulled from her phone and those of her conspirators had explained in plain English how they had intended to lock a girl their own age in what amounted to a biohazard waste bin and leave her for dead as the capstone on a year and a half long bullying campaign. It boggled the mind how something like this could have been missed.

It hadn't hit Vista the same way it had the other Wards. She had been there when the girl's intended victim, Taylor Hebert, had named the Ward. There was a sick sort of irony that the girl had avoided a fate terrible enough to count as a trigger event by triggering with powers not even three days before. She had been furious during the ride back from the Hebert's home. By the time they had arrived at the PRT Headquarters, she had been calm. The sort of calm that leads to one committing murder in cold blood. It was only the fact that Sophia was still in quarantine offsite from the fallout of her stunt that had prevented the young girl from making her best go at it. The things she had read in the journal on the way back. Well, there was a reason Assault had taken the book back from her during the trip. She hadn't meant to break the geometry of the van.

There was a part of her that was happy to see Sophia gone, but the mess she had left behind was bigger than just a school. Sophia had been pulled from quarantine after a check by Panacea and shipped off out of the city without delay the moment things came to light. Her departure and heralded the start of what Vista could only think of as a witch hunt. Director Piggot, the commanding officer of the PRT ENE, had been on the warpath immediately. The PRT's caseworker for Sophia was rumoured to have been arrested and tried within a week of the incident. Depending on who you asked they were either in jail or shuffled off to a containment zone for the rest of their natural life.

Piggy's warpath hadn't ended there, unfortunately. The woman was a big fan of the idea of punishing the entire team for the sins of a single person. They had all been painted with the same brush in her eyes. All the Wards viewed it as a minor miracle that Aegis, the current Ward's Captain in Brockton Bay, hadn't lost his position in the mess. The fact that he had only been captain for the last month had probably been what saved him in Vista's opinion. The Director's attitude to them since had, however, made it clear she trusted them much less than she had before. It was like she expected them all to be hiding Taylor's in their closet just waiting to spring out at the worst time and embarrass the PRT.

For the rest of the Wards, the 'punishment' had been limited to mandatory awareness lessons, restrictions on patrols, and a small dock in pay. It was the last one that had ticked the group off the most. As Clockblocker constantly complained, how were they supposed to know Shadow Stalker was less antisocial loner and more psycho serial killer wannabe?

"We couldn't," Vista sighed, getting both boy's attention. "Just stop complaining about it already. You've done nothing but that for over a week Clock. It's getting annoying." She waved her hand threateningly in his direction.

Clock winced. "Fine… So where is our fearless leader and Kid anyway?" He asked, changing the topic, "They've been gone for nearly an hour." Aegis and Kid Win had both been called away within minutes of each other. No reason had been given at the time and it had left the rest of them wondering and waiting.

Vista sighed and sat up, slipping her visor on. She pocketed her phone and stood up. "Where are you going?" Clock asked.

"Away." She bent space and stepped from the couch across the room to the window that looked out over the bay. It was the furthest point from Clock and Gallant. She leaned against the window. Outside night had already fallen and the city glittered with street lamps, headlights, and the windows of homes. It was a relaxing scene compared to the constant moaning and complaining from Clockblocker. Dennis, as he was known out of costume, was normally a funny and easy going guy, but the last few days had worn away any humour.

It wasn't just Dennis. They were all on edge and spending a few hours just sitting around waiting for something to happen was not helping. If she had to listen to him complain for another hour she was going to do something she regretted… would regret. Somehow she doubted that the first minute of listening to him fall into a bottomless pit would provoke much regret.

She sighed and turned her attention out to the city. Thinking about the team would just drive her up the wall. She stood there, trying and failing to not think about the team, for another ten minutes while Gallant and Clockblocker talked in the background. She vaguely noticed that Gallant had subtly steered the conversation away from complaining and onto football.

The door opening interrupted both her looping thoughts and the conversation between the two boys. She turned to find Aegis entering the room. The moment the door shut he reached up and popped off his helmet. "Gah, that was annoying," he complained, walking over to the kitchen table.

"More annoying than sitting here with nothing to do?" Clock asked.

Aegis shot him a look before glancing at the large TV that occupied much of the wall. "Says the guy who had a TV?" He snarked, sitting down.

"Funny thing about that, TV still isn't working," Clock said, jerking a thumb back at it.

"You're kidding," Aegis groaned, "They said they fixed it."

"Nope. We've been as bored out of our minds," Clock shrugged.

"What did they want Carlos?" Gallant asked.

Aegis, who went by Carlos normally, sighed. "So, you guys remember that cape Vista visited with Assault a few weeks back?" He asked. They all nodded. "Vista forgot to mention they create gold when they do their thing. The PRT just had sixty pounds of it delivered thirty minutes ago." Vista stared. How much was sixty pounds worth anyway?

"Holy shit," Clock said, "Sixty pounds?"

"Yeah. Kid was ecstatic. When I left he was already knee-deep in some new design," Aegis said. He stretched and rolled his shoulder with a groan. "Anything left in the fridge?" He asked.

"Plenty of pizza from earlier, just leave the anchovy slices alone," Clock told him, getting a shudder from Gallant. Aegis snorted.

"No danger there," their captain scoffed.

"What are they going to do with sixty pounds of gold? How much is that even worth?" Clock asked. He looked about the room, getting shrugs from both Gallant and Vista. She didn't even know how much a pound of gold was worth, let alone sixty.

"Two point eight million," Aegis said as he pulled a pizza box out of the fridge. He popped the top open, grimaced at what was inside, and slid it back into the fridge before retrieving a second box. "The girl's dad who brought it in looked stunned when they weighed it. They hadn't realized how much they'd collected over the last few weeks."

"Yeah, but what are they going to do with it? Sell it?" Clock asked, earning a snort of derision from Vista.

"Not at the price they were buying. Market plus five percent from what I heard," Aegis said, sitting down with his prize. "By the sounds of it, they're going to be sending it to tinkers around the country."

"So that's it then?" Gallant asked, "Are we free to leave yet?"

"Well," Aegis took a bite of pepperoni pizza, "mm, I'm going to eat, but yeah, we're all free to go. Though I don't think Kid is going anywhere anytime soon. He was looking really into whatever he was working on." Clockblocker didn't even wait for him to finish before popping out of his seat.

"Then I'm gonna get changed and get the hell out of here," he said, disappearing down the corridor to the Ward's on-site rooms. Gallant clapped his hands on his knees and stood up.

"I need to get going. Vicky's already gone nuts over this cutting into our date tonight. If I'm quick I might be able to salvage something," he said, bowing out of the room with more dignity than his teammate.

Aegis glanced over at Vista as she watched them go. "Everything okay Missy?" He asked.

She shrugged. "I'm fine," she lied. Of course, he had spent the entire time thinking about Vicky. She buried that line of thought before it could gain traction and tried to switch topics. "So we've spent the last few hours bored out of our minds because of a gold delivery?" She asked.

Her teammate shrugged as he chewed. "Yeah, basically," he admitted once he swallowed. "The Director wanted us on hand 'just in case'."

"She didn't tell us a thing though," Vista scowled, crossing her arms, "We've been here for hours without a clue."

"Don't feel too bad. They didn't even tell the PRT Troopers what was coming in until it was just around the corner," Aegis said, "Hell, I learned at the same time they did. Piggot was playing this one really close to the chest. I don't think anyone outside of her, Renick, Armsmaster and maybe Assault had a clue. Nearly three million dollars in gold…" He shook his head, "Absolutely nuts, and that girl just creates it from thin air?"

Vista nodded. "Yeah, she makes a ton of it at once, but most vanishes in a few minutes. Apparently only a bit of it sticks around as 'real' gold," she confirmed.

"Well, she's rich now," Aegis observed, "You going to head out as well?" She shrugged at the question. She had already gotten approval, for what little it counted, to stay the night from her dad. Officially it was just in case whatever this was had lasted too late. Despite being relatively early in the evening she wasn't inclined to head home.

"I think I'll stay the night," she said, "A bit late anyway." She ignored the raised eyebrow. He didn't have to deal with parents who couldn't even be in the same room as one another.

"Alright, well I'm just going to finish this off then head home. You've got tomorrow off, right?" He asked. She nodded. She wasn't scheduled for any patrols or appearance the next day. "Take it easy, go have fun somewhere. We've all had a rough few weeks."

"I'll think about it," she shrugged non-committed. "Good night Carlos," she said, turning for the Ward's rooms.

"G'night Missy, sleep well," Carlos said, raising a slice of pizza in salute as she left.

Missy walked down the hallway, passing Dennis as he marched out of his room. "Later Vista," he said with a cheery wave before running down the hall, backpack over one shoulder. He was gone before she could say anything back.

There were twelve rooms set aside for the Wards. At present, there were five Wards in Brockton Bay and given how most people who joined the Wards usually leveraged it to get out of the city she had to wonder just how optimistic the designers were. The odds of there ever being more than half of them filled were long in a city like Brockton.

Her's was around the middle of the hallway on the left side as announced by the simple blocky yellow letters of the digital nameplate on the door. She pushed open the door and shut it behind her, locking it with a sigh as she leaned against the door. The room was small with a desk and computer, a TV, a single person bed, and a dresser in the corner. The rooms weren't intended for long term occupancy, just the occasional overnight stay.

Vista sometimes stayed overnight most of the week.

She tossed her visor onto the bed and followed it by faceplanting onto the bed herself. The Wards had never been an easy thing. Brockton Bay was a rough city where more than a few criminals and Supervillains were more than willing to take a shot at a Ward despite the risk of Protectorate and PRT retaliation. She had nearly been killed a few times over the last few years. Comparing the last few weeks to one of those fights she had gotten into over the last several years left her wishing for the fights. The constant low-level tension between everyone was reminding her more and more of her parents.

She groaned and rolled over on the bed. "Go have fun," she said absently, repeating Carlos' words. Fun. Until the last few weeks, her fun had been being Vista and running around as a Ward. Sure it got dangerous at times, but it was better than living with her parents every day.

She fiddled with her visor and held it up to the single ceiling light, tinting it green as she looked up. It was funny, these days she didn't feel so much like Vista or Missy. She tossed it off the end of her bed and rolled over onto her side. The armoured plates on her shoulders dug into her skin. She groaned and sat up.

"Stupid costume," she grumbled as she walked over to her dresser to see what she had brought over. She pulled open the top drawer and paused at the Tinkerbell themed T-shirt on top. It had been part of a prank that Dennis had played on her a few months back and she'd hung onto it. She liked fairies. They were cute…

"I wonder how Taylor's doing," she mused aloud, picking up the shirt. She knew a fairy now. Well, not a real fairy, but about as close as she could get to one in the real world. The tiny girl was rich now, not that that wasn't obvious the moment she had fired a plume of gold across the room.

Missy sat down on the foot of her bed with the T-shirt in her hands. "Wonder if she's managed to figure out flying yet…" The girl had been so annoyed that she hadn't even started on it yet. It would be nice if she could. If she could fly quickly then maybe she'd be able to get outside again and she'd be able to run into her again somewhere in the city.

A thought sparked there and she paused. Who said she had to wait for Taylor to go out and about again before she could meet her. She already knew where Taylor lived, and it wasn't really a violation of the unwritten rules if she came by for a visit to check up on her. Maybe take her around town if she had figured out how to fly.

Missy grinned. She was a hero, she could keep one little fairy safe if her dad was worried. "It sounds like fun," she snickered. It probably wouldn't even violate any of the PRT's rules either. They were trading with the girl, they had to trust her at least a bit.

It looked like she had her plans then.

The next day Vista looked down at the backyard of the Hebert's house from where she was perched on the backside of a three-story house just behind and down the block from them. It looked clear. Space warped and she stepped through into the backyard and walked up the steps.

Right, this was it. Just a friendly, unsolicited superhero visit. She took a deep breath and knocked on the back door. Then she did it again a few moments later. She was about to do it a third time when the door opened with a creak to reveal Mr. Hebert. The gangly tall middle-aged man looked down at her with surprise.

"Vista?" He asked.

Vista smiled brightly. "Hi Mr. Hebert, is Taylor in?"

-0-0-0-0-0-

A/N: *swirly-eyed kitsune* Whoo, this was a lot of work all at once. Like, the most I've ever done without submitting it somewhere. *flumphs face first into pillow* I'm just going to take a nap. Cheers.

A/N the Second: Now that I've napped [Slept six and a half hours] I'm ready to finish this up. This little bundle of one hundred pages and over forty thousand words [just] has been the work of all of february. I hope everyone has enjoyed it. This idea just kinda burrowed into my brain and I started writing.

A big thank you to my editor, again, Gekkou_Yoko her help has been literally invaluable. No seriously, she spotted several big mathematical errors this time. *sheepish kitsune* No one should be required to eat six times their own body weight to survive. Poor dwarves, Miss Yoko has saved them from quite the horrible fate.

A thank you to my Patrons for your support. Sorry for the silence over the last month, but this project has been combining with school to take all of my attention. If anyone wants to toss a dollar my way my link is in the description. [and I really need to set up a plain old donate button for the one time kinda people]

If anyone wants to keep talking about this my discord is in my signature. Please come and join us, more people are always welcome~

To everyone on fanfiction: Hello~ Here's the latest story from me. After this, I'll be getting back to my older stories for a while. Need to reign in the muses and focus on finishing something.


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